I'm an interdisciplinary bike racer, and as such I like to perform badly in different areas--kind of like a traveling mime troupe. And one of my favorite areas in which to perform badly is cyclocross. As a participant I certainly bring nothing to the sport, except perhaps cautionary examples. But thanks to the good people at Cyclocross magazine I've been fortunate enough to contribute in other ways because the fourth issue has just come out and I have a few words in it:
These guys have been doing a great job with the magazine, and with the exception of my own small contribution there's a lot of great content here. Also, reading about cyclocross is much easier than doing it (though I do read Cyclocross magazine in a skinsuit while standing in a mudpuddle for the full effect). Best of all, it's way less pretentious than the New Yorker. So check it out.
Speaking of cyclocross, I have been informed that each and every non-UCI entrant in this year's Whitmore's Landscaping Supercross Cup in Southampton, LI on November 22nd and 23rd will receive a free raffle ticket to win a custom Richard Sachs 'cross bike:
At first I took this to mean that every non-UCI registrant would automatically receive a custom Richard Sachs 'cross bike, which impressed even me (not least of all because it would save you the trouble of traveling with a bike), but this is still pretty good. Apparently, "Richard Sachs currently has a seven year backlog for his Signature road frames, and is not currently taking orders from new clients." I guess that's why he hasn't been answering my emails about building me a TIG-welded aluminum dirt jumping frame. Though I suppose it's just as well I can no longer get on Richard Sachs's seven-year wait list, because if this Mogo thing takes off I don't even know if I'll still want a bicycle in seven years. But skipping to the head of the line is a whole other story, and it may even be enough to get me out to Southampton again, despite the fact that it's a bit late in the season to be seen in the Hamptons and in late November I usually weekend in St. Barts.
Moving on, we saw yesterday that the new vehicle of choice for lady-trolling is the recumbent. And a reader informs me that as the sleazy paceline of cycling Casanovas continues to roll, none other than Floyd Landis is taking his turn at the front:
Note the Cone of Smugness just edging itself into the frame as Landis enters yet another woman's digits into his phone thanks to the irresistible draw of his three-wheeled recumbent "chick magnet." (And what woman can resist a 'bent chick magnet?)
But Landis would be well-advised to keep at least one eye on his helmet mirror, because a new generation of velo-playboys is right behind him. Another reader has sent me the following, which is a generous gift to the ladies or an affront to decency, depending upon your own particular sensibilities:
I suggest listening to the proper soundtrack for the full effect:
I also received a gift of my own:
I love you too, Serge Huercio.
But when it comes to excessive and disturbing adulation, nobody receives more than bike messengers. The extent to which certain people romanticize the simple act of riding around a city all day delivering envelopes is truly amazing. Sure, I can see why it has a sort of rogue appeal to people, but once the messenger is elevated to some kind of otherworldly superhero nearly bursting out of his lycra skinsuit (all messengers in New York City wear lycra skinsuits and look like they're dancers for Janet Jackson, of course) some unsettling line has been crossed:
If you've worked either as a messenger or in an office in New York City, you know that messengers do not walk right into people's offices to deliver envelopes. Rather, they leave them in messenger centers or with receptionists. As such, when the messenger in this video walked right into someone's office I feared the door was going to shut and the white-collar worker's "dependence upon the blood and sweat of the bicycle messenger" was going to take a shockingly homoerotic turn. I was also puzzled by the narrator's assertion that messengers "can see up to 15 seconds into the future." This is a bizarre claim. I can only assume he means that they can anticipate traffic and pedestrian patterns, but if so then 15 seconds is an eternity. You'd also think that this clairvoyance would have prevented the male prostitute from getting doored. Then again, maybe I just don't understand messengers--and having just watched that video, I'm not sure I want to. Not that there's anything wrong with that (apart from the illegality of exchanging sex for money). What Pink Thunder Delivery Systems do with their clients behind closed doors is their own business.
This shocking revelation as to the nefarious activities of messengers also sheds new light on this photograph, taken in Washington, D.C. by "Krazygl00:
I can only assume he's a "courier" on his way to a really, really weird bachelorette party.
Meanwhile, our presidential candidates are still using the fixed-gear fad in a transparent attempt to get in touch with the nation's youth. Obama may have "dropped" a second fixed-gear (as we saw yesterday), but nobody's been willing to prove they can actually throw down on the bike. Until now:
This photo from yesterday's comments clearly depicts McCain "killin' it" and proves he does indeed have "mad skillz." It also proves he looks a lot like the Emperor from "Star Wars." Personally, I'd have been even more impressed if he'd pulled this move on the Obama bike. Obama would most assuredly have been "sonned."
Finally, Obama may be about change, but few people have the courage to change a bike that's clearly not suited to its purpose, like this one from the Fixedgeargallery:
That's why I've created the BSNYC Fixed-Gear Korrectorizer to right the frames that man has put asunder:
Sure, it's still somewhat offensive, but at least it doesn't look like it's melting anymore.
Let's see Richard Sachs do that.