This Just In: RTMS Attends Media Extravaganza!!!

I make certain sacrifices for anonymity, and one of those sacrifices is that I'm not invited to very many places. Instead, I'm "tipped off." Today, I was "tipped off" by a certain insider that there would be a big press conference in Astor Place at 1:00pm at which something bike-related would be announced. On top of that, various luminaries would also be present. So, since it was lunchtime and the weather was good and I was curious about the luminaries, I figured I'd head on over.

Basically, what they announced at the press conference was that this summer, for three Saturdays in August, certain streets in Manhattan will be car-free for part of the day, a program modeled after the Ciclovia in Bogota, Colombia. You can read a little bit more about it here on Streetsblog and on Gothamist, and I'm sure now that it's been officially announced there will be more details available elsewhere as well. I'd love to give you more details myself, but unfortunately I was standing close to the luminaries and far from the speakers so it was almost impossible to hear anything apart from the street noise.*

*(Update: in the interest of actual information, here's the press release and map.)

And who were those luminaries? Well, Paul Steely White from Transportation Alternatives was there. (I told him he had a nice ass and he seemed oddly flattered.) Also, Janet Sadik-Khan, the DOT Commissioner was there, as was David Byrne (who I'm pleased to report seems to be recovering nicely from his drunk cycling accident), Mayor Michael Bloomberg (of course) and, of all people, Lance Armstrong. I was especially pleased that Lance was there, because it gave me an opportunity to give him my thank-you gift much sooner than I'd expected. (If you're wondering, he seemed very pleased with it. Who wouldn't be?)

As far as the press conference itself, since I couldn't hear anything I confess my mind wandered a bit. I'm afraid I also didn't take pictures of the luminaries, since as an anonymous writer I actually don't like sticking my camera in peoples' faces, even at a press conference. (Exposed buttocks on the Brooklyn Bridge notwithstanding.) And an internet image search will yield tons of pictures of all those people anyway. However, I did take some pictures, which should give you a good idea of what it was like to be there:



The VIP bike parking. I'm guessing these belong to people like David Byrne and the Transportation Alternatives people. I was forced to lock up to a nearby lightpost. Fortunately the policeman was looking in the general direction of my bike, so I had a false sense of security.



The press. The various luminaries are to my left. As you can see the cameras are pointed at them. That's why I choose to remain anonymous.

Car-free Saturdays may be green, but this press conference was not. In fact, it spelled "death" for the local flora, which was trampled by inconsiderate bystanders. (I'd have laid down in front of the flowers to save them, but they'd have trampled me instead had I dared to block their precious view of Armstrong and I didn't want to soil my Primal jersey.)

Oh, "The Love Guru" is coming out. It didn't take long for the questions from the press to veer away from bikes and towards boring stuff like this whole OTB business, so between keeping an eye on my bike and anxiously checking the time this is the sort of thing I occupied myself with.

So there you have it. Will car-free Saturdays be a success? Has Paul Steely White finally learned his lesson about exposing himself? Will Michael Ball's autograph finally inspire Lance Armstrong to accomplish something? Only time will tell.

And now back to Rock Racing in Harlem.

Showtime at the Apollo: Rock Racing Comes to Harlem

(Rock Wheelz--fast standing still.)

As I mentioned last week, Rock Racing sponsored this year's Harlem Skyscraper race, which took place yesterday. This meant that Michael Ball and his ectoplasmic entourage were in town to give us quaint New Yorkers a taste of some real Hollywood style. The action started Friday with a Rock Racing ride in Central Park, and continued Saturday when they reportedly arrived late to a Prospect Park race, jumped in anyway, and proceeded to mix it up. (It's possible they may simply have been trying to avoid paying the entry fee.) But Sunday was the big day, and Rock Racing did not disappoint. And by that, I don't mean that they won, because they didn't, but I do mean that they actually showed up on time. I was on hand to bask in the eerie, stomach-turning lime-green glow.

Just some examples of the style Ball & Co. brought to our otherwise dull and provincial lives here in NYC were a malfunctioning JumboTron:

A veritable armada of sickly green vehicles:

And real, honest to goodness California license plates.



(One thing they didn't bring though was lube--at least not bike lube. I personally witnessed a Rock Racing staffer purchasing a nearly-empty container of Triflow from an enterprising bystander for $5. This only a day after their Prospect Park entry fee dodge. Are these the first cracks in the Rock Racing facade?)

Despite Rock's presence, though, some things remained unmistakably New York. For example, what's more New York than getting kitted up in a bus shelter?



If that's not New York enough for you, then how about "Messenger Mania?" Yep, Harlem featured a relay race in which messengers (or at least people dressed like them) rode around the circuit on bikes with too-narrow bars carrying the full range of FedEx packing materials. (Including those triangular boxes.) The speeds were as moderate as the crowd's response. It was sort of like a kiddie race, but with grown-ups, and without screaming parents:



This year's Harlem Skyscraper drew crowds from every corner of Bike Culture. There were Camelbak-wearing mountain bikers:

Recumbent-riding weirdos:



And fixters with more money than sense.


Speaking of the fixters, they sure love their U-locks and will find any excuse to use them. This being a bike race, there were unlocked $5,000 carbon road bikes everywhere you looked, yet the fixters made sure to secure even the junkiest bicycle if it was going to be unstraddled for even a second. If fixters were cops and U-locks were guns then innocent people would be shot hourly here in New York City instead of just monthly like they are now.


At this point you may be wondering about the race itself. Well, this was a crit. So the riders went around and around really fast a bunch of times. Like this:



And this:


Speaking of things going fast, merchandise was flying off the shelves over at the Rock Racing tent. And by "flying" I don't mean like a frightened flock of birds suddenly taking to the air in the thousands. I mean more like a bunch of pelicans hanging out on a dock in that one might eventually fly off to look for a fish or something, but otherwise they mostly just sat there:

Eventually, after much riding around, there was a winner. Notice the absence of green clothing. I would imagine Mr. Ball was pretty disappointed after sinking a bunch of money into this thing. It's kind of like taking a paid escort to a party, only to have her go home with your better-looking friend for free.

At this point you may be wondering: did I meet Michael Ball? Well, the answer is yes. I went to Harlem determined not only to meet him, but also to get his autograph. Until yesterday, there was only one person in the entire world I'd ever approached for an autograph. That person was heavy metal homunculus Glenn Danzig, who I saw in the audience at a Metallica concert. He autographed my ticket stub. Here it is:

(Yes, that's the real deal. By the way, that Queensryche set was the most painful thing I've ever endured in my life. And I've ridden CX Nats.)

Going in, I realized I couldn't ask Ball for an autograph made out to me, since I'm anonymous. But I still wanted to experience the thrill of meeting Ball and having him write on something. That's when it occurred to me I'd never properly thanked Lance Armstrong for all the margaritas at the Mellow Johnny's party (nor properly apologized for the mess I made as a result). But, what do you get for a man who has everything? Well, you get him something he probably doesn't have, and I decided that something was a hat from his own bike shop autographed by Michael Ball:


Yes, that is indeed Michael Ball's autograph. (By the way, Ball is even tanner in person.) Please note the orientation of the message. That's so it's legible while you're wearing it. I like to think that Lance might be out running a marathon or something, and that during a moment of duress he'll be on the verge of giving up. But then he'll glance up at that inspirational message which will encourage him to push through and kick that much harder.

I'm going to hold on to this until I have a chance to give it to him. In the meantime, I am keeping it hermetically sealed in this plastic bag that my new bib shorts came in:



I don't want to risk even the slightest damage. This is truly a priceless piece of cycling memorabilia.