The story behind ObliqO
SEPTEMBER 2003 - ALICANTE, SPAIN - In the summer of 2003 I was bored. I decided I would spend some time in the hot, arid south east coast of Spain. More precisely I picked a fabulous seaside resort in the Costa Blanca: Alicante.
It was in one of the sunny afternoons while I was walking to the Italian restaurant where I had found work that I had my inspired moment, one that would plant a seed in my head which would then slowly but constantly grow in the years to come. I wasn’t a designer yet at the time but I was already a creative thinker, or so I define my curious way of imagining stuff that never existed.
So there I was, rushing along the Explanada, a wide marvelous mosaic pavement flanked by tall palm trees and flowers. A pavement so smooth that you could not walk on it during rainy days for how slippery it got. But this was a very sunny day and a lot of people were strolling, some chatting, others enjoying their ice-creams. I seemed to be the only one in a hurry and hence in a bad mood.
Right at that moment I heard a quickly approaching hiss, like an intermittent rolling sound and in a matter of seconds this boy overtook me in what looked like a zig-zagging gadget with wheels and kept coasting along the Explanada. That was a snakeboard and it certainly was not the first time I saw one. But it was the first time I had seen someone making the most of it and leaving me so frustratingly behind. And isn’t it true that the best ideas come out of frustration?
I put my neurons to work right away and of course at first come the questions. Why there weren’t many more people riding a snakeboard to work, if they were so fast and fun to use?
- First observation: Not all pavements are as smooth and wheel-friendly as the Explanada, with its thousands and thousands of tiny little tiles all laid out in an elegant pattern.
The same guy on the street would have looked clumsy and slow, as I were to find out a couple of year after when seeing two youngsters trying to ride their snakeboards on a rough pavement in Muswell Hill.
I spent days sitting at my desk and sketching views of what was to be my own version of the snakeboard. I just had all these thoughts coming and I had to let them out on paper. Wheels, bearings, decks and so on, all the components started taking shape and coming together as a whole assembly.
AUGUST 2005 - MONTEGRANARO, ITALY - It wasn’t until nearly two years later that I finally had the chance and the impulse to turn my drawings into a prototype. In the summer of 2005 I was in Montegranaro, my grandparent’s small town on the green hills of central Italy. A place famous for its exceptionally skilled shoemakers and because of some crop circles found in the fields nearby.
I literally hid in the garage for 3 days without seeing anyone, eating very little. My dad had to pull me out into the sun to remind me of the outside world. The rig that I put together looked very industrial and rough, but it was fun to ride, as long as, you guessed it, it was used on smooth, hard surfaces. Any attempt to ride it on the street was a frustrating and embarrassing experience.
The italian part of this story ends here. The next stages of the creation of the ObliqO take place under a much less sunny sky, in the suburbs of the very inspiring Big Smoke.
MAY 2006 - LONDON, UK - I decided to take the thing with me to London and show it to my peers. Some of them were impressed and wanted to try it and learn how to do the “snaky motion”. I simply made sure it was done on the right surface and “happy days!”, everyone had fun.
But inside I was looking for a more convincing solution. One that would make the snakeboard an all-surface vehicle, without the limitations of the small wheels:
- Second observation: small wheel + smooth surface = fast ride; small wheel + bumpy surface = hard time!!
All that was needed to have a smooth ride were bigger wheels! 10 centimeters? 20? How about 30 centimeters (AKA 12 inches)?
OCTOBER 2008 - KINGSTON UPON THAMES, UK - The class was sitting in front of me, with the lecturers right at the front, sitting back in their chairs, looking at me with suspicious eyes. Could not blame them. There I was, standing in front of my class in the third year of my BSc. More than two years spent learning all the skills and techniques to be a good product designer and now I was going to bet my reputation with a seemingly random idea. There I was, with an extremely rough full-scale mock up of the thing in my hand, ready to pitch my idea. The outcome was surprisingly good. Most people in the audience were surprised and interested, although definitely quite dubious about my chances of success.
But off I went, decided to turn all my previous years’ thoughts and observations into something concrete. I was convinced I could design the next snakeboard, a better one!
What followed was 8 months of pure, hard-core product development spent either in the workshop, between the lathe and the welding bay, or in front of a monitor doing the 3D modeling and emailing suppliers. The main steps of the journey are summarized below. I will try not to get into the technicalities of it just so the less geek does not get bored.
Michele Camerlengo
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