BSNYC Friday Fun Quiz!

Today is Friday, and that means only two things: 1) it is time for my weekly mani-pedi (I save money by having it done at a dog grooming boutique); and 2) it's time for a quiz. As always, study the question, think, and click on your answer. If you're right you will be assured of your correctitude, and if you're wrong you'll see a fixter-in-training beginning a lifelong love affair with fixed-gear cycling.

Thanks for reading, good luck, and ride safe. And most importantly, always use an ANSI or Snell approved protective toddler and be sure to replace it in the event of a crash.


--BSNYC/RTMS

1) According to the New York Post, "Dangerous Bike Riders Run Wild With ________:"

--Impertinence

--Impunity

--Machetes

--Sporks

2) What is this significance of this sign?

--New York City is acknowledging its bike salmon infestation

--New York City is becoming increasingly hipster friendly and installing signs that warn you when you're heading away from Williamsburg

--New York City is informing its cyclists that using a bicycle is the "wrong way" to travel

--It's made of cheese

3) What is the significance of this seatpost?

--It's NJS

--It's kosher
--The owner of the Finlandia Cheese Bike has upgraded the stock seatpost to the Sliced Bacon model

--It's delicious

4) At the Giro d'Italia, the best view is from the podium.

--True
--False





5) This electrically-assisted bicycle may be a sign of the coming Meh-pocalypse.

--True
--False



6) What is this guy doing?

--Injecting heroin
--Injecting CERA
--Practicing descending while on the toilet
--Foffing his Knog





7) What is this?*

--"New York City Urban Warfare Cro-Mag Training"
--"Baldwin, LI Suburban Altercation Crumbsucker Training"

--"Lower East Side Squatting While on Break from Sarah Lawrence Slapfight Vegan Peace Punk Training"

--"Fabian Cancellara Training"

*(Thanks to Metal Inquisition for the link.)

(Seen at No Brakes website.)

8) The above are:

--Pop cultural currency
--Images juxtaposed with the sources from which they were appropriated
--Just a few examples of Mike Giant's stunning creativity
--All of the above

***Special Optional Extra Credit Philosophical Essay Question***

The bicycle above, seen locked in New York City, features S&S couplers. As such, though the bicycle is locked, the front half could theoretically be stolen. In a city where people will even steal "Hipster Cysts," is this a legitimate concern? Can a thief find a use or a market for half a bicycle? And as S&S couplers become more common, is it possible the streets will one day be crawling with hot black market hybrids cobbled together from different halves of stolen bicycles like mixmatched pairs of socks?

Ineftitude: Getting in Touch with your Inner Lizard

Ever since yesterday's post about cultural Xerox machine Mike Giant, something's been bothering me. While I've never actually met Giant, I was almost certain I'd seen him before. Then, while watching this video, it hit me:



He's the guy who played Weird Jimmy in Cheech and Chong's "Nice Dreams:"


If you haven't seen "Nice Dreams," it's the one where the particularly potent strain of marijuana is turning people into lizards. And when it comes to potent drugs, there's always one celebrity who finds the subject Twitter-worthy:



Yes, Dennis Hopper is always throwing in his two cents. Unfortunately, they've usually been through the stretched penny machine.

Of course, while some people believe that marijuana can turn you into a lizard, others feel it can make you more creative. (Mike Giant certainly seems to subscribe to this theory, though in practice it only seems to inspire him to copy stuff.) If this indeed true, then this guy must be smoking the stuff by the bushel:

This image was forwarded to me by an esteemed reader, and it depicts something that was heretofore only the stuff of myth: the reverse-quill, inverted-handlebar, Campy-ergo-with-bar-ends cockpit setup. And as a bonus the bike even includes a mini pump despite the presence of a pump peg, which is visibly yearning for the sweet kiss of a frame pump. Really, the whole thing is just a filth prophylactic away from perfection. I don't know who set this guy's bars up like this, but I suspect it may have been M.C. Escher. If you don't know who M.C. Escher was, he's like Mike Giant, only his drawings are interesting.

Speaking of people who steal stuff, yet another Deep V has vanished:




STOLEN: White Rear Velocity Deep V (williamsburg/broadway)
Reply to:[deleted]
Date: 2009-05-27, 8:53AM EDT

some inbred stolen the back wheel off my bike last night outside of Trophy bar. ofcourse if you're reading this i'm being very specific for the inbred/s that stole it. oh boy you're one lucky lucky person. if i had caught you ohhhh deary, 808721[deleted].

Stolen Deep Vs is the third most common cause of hipster temper tantrums in Williamsburg, just behind STDs and parents who won't foot the bill for their airfare home when they attend their siblings' graduations. I'm not sure what sort of retribution a Deep V thief should fear from a person who says "ohhhh deary," though it might come in the form of a saucy note. In fact, the Saucy Note Bandit has already stricken in Greenpoint, with hilariously devastating results:




whoever vandalized my bike on frankin st - w4m - 23 (greenpoint)
Reply to:[deleted]
Date: 2009-05-24, 8:47PM EDT

It read, "locking to a tree is a dick move." And it also read, "yeah ur a dick."

so amazing. gave me a hilarious laugh this morning. i assume it was a male due to the hand writing... who are you?

In an attempt to unmask the Saucy Note Bandit, I ventured deeper into the moldy cheese cave that is Craigslist, and found what I thought might be a clue that the SNB actually comes from out of town:



11 May - A train from JFK - m4w
Reply to:[deleted]
Date: 2009-05-27, 2:05PM EDT

I was reading "man, mystic, monk" Dalai Lama. Sandals you were wearing, I was wearing sandals as well. Paint blotched NB tied to your Timbuktu. I was lugging a big blue bike bag. Glasses... I still think about you. You said goodbye at Hoyt, and I haven't stopped hearing that. Want to know you...

However, I soon dismissed this theory. Firstly, while someone who reads the Dalai Lama might be fiercely protective of trees, he probably wouldn't go so far as to leave an angry note. Secondly, the syntactical structure of the post doesn't match that of the note. Take this sentence: Sandals you were wearing, I was wearing sandals as well. This actually suggests the Dalai Lama reader is himself another noted spiritualist:



And whoever the Saucy Note Bandit may be, it most certainly isn't Yoda. If it was, the note on the tree bike would have read: "Dick move is locking to a tree. Dick you are."

Having absolved Yoda, I continued to comb Craigslist, where I encountered even more dicks--though this time they came in an altogether different form:

Chelsea mini-storage BJ - m4m - 35 (Chelsea)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-05-26, 9:54AM EDT

I was there around 6:30pm last Friday night picking up my bike from storage and when i turned the corner, you were getting your dick sucked with your storage unit door open.
I walked past but then came back slowly and watched, just out of sight of the guy who was getting you off.

It was really hot.
We didn't say a word, but you watched me watch you and I think its what got you off in the end.

I'd like to meet up there sometime and re-enact the scene; this time I'm on my knees.

At this point I realized I wasn't going to find the Saucy Note Bandit on Craigslist, so I figured now would be a good time to conclude my search and leave these gentlemen to it. I guess New York City Craigslist is a lot like a storage unit--you visit innocently in search of a bike, and you wind up walking in on some man-on-man action. This caused me to reflect on what Craigslist must be like in other parts of the country. Certainly I was just one click away from finding out, but I preferred to leave it to my imagination, and I wondered if this was what a Craigslist Missed Connection was like in the Pacific Northwest:

I was taking a stroll through the forest when I saw you and your sweet blue fixie. You had alabaster skin and were wearing nothing except Daisy Dukes and a pair of suspenders, and your right breast must have been itchy because you were scratching it against a tree. I should have introduced myself but I am a Yeti and I was afraid of someone finally obtaining photographic evidence of my existence. Regretting that now. Anyway, if you see this hit me up and I'll scratch you where you itch with my terrifying claws.



I realize that the original photo may be unsafe for some workplaces, so here's a less titillating version featuring another noted suspender enthusiast:


Wow, I guess the Yeti does exist. I wonder if she'll let him ride her Klit:

(Klit Fixedgear, forwarded by a reader)

By the way, if you also like to wander around in the forest (either as a Yeti or in search of one), you might read Outside magazine. Well, it seems I garnered a mention in a column in the June issue. (The column does not seem to be online so you'll have to look at the actual magazine. I recommend waiting three months and then making a dentist appointment, by which time there should be a copy in the waiting room.):



Of course, what I'm really holding out for is Outside's acceptance of my article, "The 40 Best Places to Urinate Outdoors in New York City" (Place #17: The Stoop at Chari & Co.), but in the meantime this will have to do. Yet while I've been mentioned in Outside, and of course have my very own column in Bicycling magazine, my favorite periodical in the whole world by far continues to be Geico Direct Magazine. However, as a cyclist and loyal reader, I have to say I was quite disappointed by the cover of their latest issue:



Really, there isn't much more that could be wrong with this picture. Firstly, who rides a bike on the beach? Not only that, but there are two people on the bike, and neither of them are wearing shoes. The whole thing looks really painful. Why wouldn't they just take a nice romantic walk instead? This is the equivalent of the next Performance catalog featuring a photo of a couple tearing through a park in a Honda Accord. Both doors would be open, the guy would be driving barefoot with his seatbelt unbuckled, and the girl would be sitting on the roof. They might even be plowing through a picnic.

But I suppose I shouldn't expect too much from a car insurer--especially one whose spokesperson is a lizard:

They must be smoking too much weed.

Giant Wheels: The Cartoonification of Cycling

If you're a cyclist, chances are you have emotional reactions to certain bicycles. In my case, some bikes such as lavishly-appointed and colorway-coordinated fixed-gears tend to make me angry. Others, such as tandems, make me cheerful. Still others, such as recumbents, make me feel frightened and confused. And I felt considerable confusion and not a little fear yesterday evening when I spied what was either a giant bicycle or a tiny rider making its way over the Manhattan Bridge:



At first, I thought I was finally having one of those acid flashbacks they used to to warn you about in grade school, and I worried that I might not have enough time to procure psychedelic essentials such as glow sticks and Magic Eye posters before my face started melting and I was no longer able to find my way home. So I put the metaphorical hammer down and headed over the bridge. However, as I approached the strange bicycle, I realized that I was not hallucinating and the bicycle was in fact some weird old-timey looking thing with 36 inch wheels. It was even stranger up close, and the rider looked like a cartoon character getting caught between two big rollers--I kept expecting her to get sucked through completely and pop out the other end like a sheet of newsprint. I quizzed the rider about her bike and she gamely answered my questions even though she was regarding me with the nonplussitude to which I am accustomed. Anyway, it turns out it's a Bologna, and you can see it here:



At this point, my confusion yielded to cheerfulness and I decided I liked this absurd contraption, even though it's missing a front fender. Sometimes it's fun when the world around you suddenly turns cartoony--not the sort of anime cartoony that fixed-gears evoke; rather, more like "Scooby Doo."

But different people get angry about different things, and the same people can get angry about different things in different circumstances. I'm sure under different conditions this pointless steampunk 36er might have enraged me instead of delighted me. Ultimately, this is why anger is sometimes comical. And when it comes to comical anger, nobody does it better than the fixed-gear scene. Ever since fixed-gear culture closed itself to new members, they've been a touchy bunch indeed, and the latest thing they're irritated by is this fixed-gear themed Dell computer:


If you read the comments to the post, you'll find that many fixed-gear enthusiasts are angry that Dell appears to have appropriated their "culture." Of course, this is ridiculous, since fixed-gear bicycles have been around much longer than the people who now claim them as their own. For that matter, so have Dell, who in my opinion are positively rife with street cred:


Remember that "Dell Dude?" Well, way back in augt three, when the fixed-gear fad was just a lime green glint in a few hipsters' eyes, the Dell Dude was already running afoul of the law:


Getting busted for buying the Wednesday weed on the Lower East Side is vastly more street-credulous than blowing a few lights on your IRO while wearing some sneakers that match your hat. So if Dell want to use fixed-gears to sell their laptops, I say they're entitled--between fixed-gear fashionistas and Dell the latter is certainly the "OG" in this scenario. Plus, when a scene places such importance on candy-colored bicycles that look like they should be hanging above baby cribs, how can you expect the larger "culture" not to pick up on the imagery? Like it or not, these goofy bikes are now just another meaningless element in the pop culture mobile that dangles above the drooling heads of the masses.

I only wish the Dell computer were actually a fixed-gear computer. I'm not sure what that would entail, but it would probably involve its not having a space bar or a delete key.

But while the fixed-gear scene doesn't like Dell crashing their party, they don't seem to have a problem with cultural plundering in general--just as long as it's cool. On the very same blog which jeered at the Dell computer was this post celebrating streetwear monger Mike Giant:


According to the Trackosaurus post, Mike Giant is somehow using his hand to "better the cycling community." I'm not sure how he's doing that, though from what I can tell it involves drawing the sorts of graphics Pushead drew better 20 years ago, putting them on clothing, and selling them under the brand name Rebel8. Personally, I'd be embarrassed to get a Major Taylor tattoo. People get tattoos of things because they identify with them and feel as though something is part of them, though the implication that a white graffiti artist born in 1971 can make what Major Taylor experienced part of him by sitting through a two-hour tattoo session is sort of like saying you understand the perils of deep sea fishing because you saw "The Perfect Storm." Sometimes getting a tattoo is less like making something part of you and more like dry-humping its leg.

In addition to dry-humping (or, if you prefer, pie-biting) Major Taylor's legacy in particular and cycling in general, Mike Giant also dry-humps Latino gang style:



Learning these fonts wasn’t something a white kid could do. “I remember being really jealous of the Mexican kids in my class that would get cholo fonts written out for them by older kids. They kept them hidden from me, mostly because I showed interest, and I was a pinche huero (fuckin’ whiteboy).”

...

His body keeps this link to his past alive as well, fully tattooed by some of the most formidable practitioners of the craft. “I can see now that I covered my arms with cholo-style tattoos to look intimidating to the kids that used to pick on me.”

This is like a gentile moving to a Jewish neighborhood in New York City, thinking Hebrew letters look cool, and getting a bunch of Yiddish phrases tattooed on himself. "Yo, can I sit in on your Talmud study group? I think the Mishnah would make some sick ink." I guess the goal of "artists" like Mike Giant and "streetwear" enthusiasts in general is to skim the visually pleasing surface of every subculture and either apply it to yourself or sell it to others if you've got the ability to reproduce it. That way you can reach the ultimate "hipster" goal, which is to be a living reference to every fad, fashion, trend, lifestyle, religion, subculture, and phenomenon that ever was or will be:



Of course, this is not to discredit people like Mike Giant. These "über hipsters" have a legitimate skill, which is to identify dangerous yet visually appealing subcultures, make forays into them, gather material, and then smooth and devenomize it for mass consumption. It's a skill that's in high demand--if we're going to have a constant flow of new trends, we need cultural snake handlers. It worked for tattoos: 20 years ago, a tattoo might keep you from getting a job; now, it might even help you. It's also working for bikes: all you need to do is roll around slowly and trackstand.

The only danger is that it can go too far. When you take away all the rough edges and over-polish something in the name of "art," you can eventually wind up with porn. And porn is ugly in its own way:



The above image was forwarded to me by a reader, and has been duly sepia-toned and censored. I was appalled by the turtle mistreatment, but you've got to admit it looks a lot like Larry King.

At any rate, for better or for worse (and probably for worse) between people like Mike Giant and companies like Dell a new generation of riders is coming of age who are obsessed with documenting themselves and their exploits, as you can see in this video, also forwarded by a reader:

Albion in the Gloaming from Albion in the Gloaming on Vimeo.

These riders call what they are doing "documentary bike-packing," which as far as I can tell is some form of hipster randonneuring in which you film yourself riding impractical bikes over long distances. It also involves pretending to fly:

This trip may very well be to cyclo-touring what hockey stops are to braking. Yes, it's an ugly scenario, and unfortunately cycling is the turtle.

Colorway Me Badd: Excessive Demands

The Memorial Day weekend is now behind us like Levi Leipheimer is behind in the general classification of the Giro d'Italia, which means we've now leaped forward into summer just like Carlos Sastre leaped into the top three yesterday in the general classification of the Giro d'Italia. Like many American cycling fans, I was sorry to see Letle Viride slip back yesterday, though we can always take solace in the fact that while his place in the GC may be tenuous his position as the official Road ID spokesperson remains secure. If you've been following the Giro on Universal, you've already seen the Road ID commercial countless times, but just in case you haven't here it is:



While I commend Leipheimer for endorsing a responsible product, I also think that roadies shouldn't be the only ones to benefit from it. There are many other types of cyclists who could also use something like this but who also don't think bracelets or road racers are "cool." As such, I'm proud to announce that I'll be endorsing a version for "hipsters," the Fixie ID:

Get your own knuckles at the knuckle tattoo gun.

Unlike that dorky nursing home-style bracelet, Fixie ID is applied to the knuckles and enhances both safety and street cred. Fixie ID is also permanent (as are the typos, unfortunately) and unless you try to brake with your knuckles it remains legible in even the most disfiguring accidents. Sure, the eight-character limit doesn't allow you to include detailed contact information, but hipsters rarely venture outside of their neighborhoods anyway. And there is sufficient room for feeding instructions:

Get your own knuckles at the knuckle tattoo gun.

See? This hipster will eat eggs and cheese, so bring on the omelettes! Stay tuned for the commercial, complete with catchy motto: "Fixie ID: It's Who I Pretend to Be."

Speaking of bracelet magnates, I was checking in on the Twitter of one of Letle Viride's domestiques when I noticed something intriguing:

I immediately headed over to noted basketball handler Shaquille O'Neal's Twitter for more information:



...and eventually I found it:


One aging celebrity athlete challenging another to a race of some kind? What could this mean? Unsure what to make of this, I consulted Dennis Hopper:



As usual, he's got his finger on the pulse, and his tongue on the blotter acid.

Of course, a new race for Armstrong means only one thing: a new custom inspirational theme bike from The Great Trek Bicycle Making Company. Everybody's seen his Giro Shepard Fairey Obey monstrosity--in fact, it freaked Dennis Hopper out so bad he emptied out a fire extinguisher on it. Well, apparently Trek isn't even waiting to find out what kind of race this is, because they've already released images of Armstrong's new "Shaq Killer:"


As you can see, every visual element is intended to not only sting Shaq but also to mock the entire sport of basketball:

The TTS (Top Tube Shacks) that decrease in size as they make their way towards the rider's crotchal region are themselves enough to send Shaq into a spiral of self-doubt, but taken together this bike should bring the giant to his knees. Yes, this race is going to be as ugly as a Lance Armstrong one-off theme bike. All You Haters Cup My Fruit.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, Trek even released this viral video:



Poignant and demoralizing.

It just so happens I know exactly how Shaq feels, as I too was demoralized recently. Yes, on the very eve of my slaycation, I secured my bicycle to a pole. However, I was in a hurry, and in my haste I forgot to de-Knog it. (As you may recall from my Scattante review, I'm sitting on a rubbery mountain of Knogs, so I figured I might as well use them.) Yes, here in New York City people actually steal the lights off of bicycles, and I'm sorry to report that when I emerged from my bikini waxing my most favoritest Knog "hipster cyst" was gone. So I beg of you, if you hear or see anything of this Knog, or if someone on the street tries to sell you one at a price that's too good to be true, let me know immediately. You'll know it's mine because it's black. (It was originally lime green, but I had it powdercoated.) Also, I couldn't be bothered to change the battery so it barely worked anyway. Here are some nostalgic photos of the wonderful times we shared together:


This is my Knog on a teapot shaped like a camel.



This is my Knog on a small bottle of Grand Marnier.




This is my Knog being used as a capo, just moments before I picked up the guitar and sang a folk song about how much I love my Knog.

Oh, and to the thief: you may have taken my Knog, but you'll never take my memories, for they burn as brightly in my heart as the first time I switched it on. Also, the Knog you took was down my pants a few times. (You really can put those things anywhere!) So the joke's on you.

Speaking of things that come in lots of "colorways," I was recently checking in with fixed-gear freestyle impresario Prolly's blog, where I learned that a new urban fixed-gear tire has "dropped," and it comes in more "colorways" than a Knog-strangled extremity:



Ever ride home in the rain to be alarmed by something and when you whip into a hockey stop, your bike kicks out from under you, landing you on your ass and your bike in the street?

Ever ride home in the rain and crash because you had to whip into a hockey stop? Me neither. That's because I rock something like this:


Sure, the "colorways" leave something to be desired, but this accessory does eliminate the need for hockey stops, lacrosse stops, lawn bowling stops, and any other inconvenient and ineffectual sports-themed stops you might find yourself forced to perform on a brakeless bike. Incidentally, I'm not sure what purpose a "directional tread" serves on a wet road, since bicycles do not hydroplane--though I suppose those cosmetic sipes are useful in that once they disappear you should probably refrain from hockey stopping until you've replaced it with a brand-new pink tire.

Well, it's good to see that the bicycle industry is addressing the needs of the fixed-gear rider, even if those needs are based more on "colorways" than they are on the excessive demands they're placing on their equipment. Actually, I'm not sure relying too heavily on one component because you've omitted another one constitutes an "excessive demand"--really, it just means your bike's not finished. It's like wearing two sweaters and no pants. Maybe I can start leaving off my tires altogether and some company will come along and make a super-thick inner tube. Or has that happened already? I can't keep track.

But don't expect brakes to make a comeback anytime soon; after all, when you ride with brakes you can't come up with cool names for your stops. I'm fine with that, though. It only expands the market for the Fixie ID.

This Just In: BSNYC Slaycation Announcement! (and Friday Fun Qiuz)

It was a warm and pleasant morning here in New York City--warm enough even to soften the outer edges of my heart, although the core remained hard and cold like an under-nuked frozen dinner. As I veloambulated along, I made the mistake of marveling at the lack of things irritating me, until I came upon this:

I absolutely hate murals that command me to do things, especially when they're painted on the walls of overpriced clothing retailers. What if I don't feel like living, working, and creating right now? Who is Brooklyn Industries to tell me what to do anyway? Actually, I was already feeling vivacious and effusive just a moment ago, but now thanks to you I'd rather destroy, sit on my posterior, and die. Nice job. You just sold one less $58 "More Bike Lanes" hoodie and robbed me of my will to live in the process.

Fortunately though, my spirits were once again buoyed a little while later, since a bunch of bike nerds under the auspices of Transportation Alternatives were giving out free food on the Manhattan Bridge. And it really was free, too--I didn't even have to listen to any smug speeches or accept any printed anti-car treatises in return! Check out the haul I made:


Good thing I was palping a rack or else there's no way I'd have been able to carry this stuff. The TA nerds couldn't have appeared at a better time, either. I'd just been dropped on the bridge ascent like a piece of hot gnocchi by a woman riding a fixed-gear and dressed like 80s Pat Benatar and I was bonking hard.

Speaking of sitting on my posterior, it's with pleasure tinged with pleasure that I'm pleasured to announce that as of the end of this post I'll be "slaying" a vacation. This vacation will last until Tuesday, May 26th, at which point I will return with regular updates. (Although the subject of those updates will change from cycling to the reproductive system of the Southern Hairy-Nosed Wombat. I smell something, and it's either a Nobel Prize or wombat dung.)

And with that, I'd like to leave you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right, you'll see some sort of confirmation, and if you're wrong you'll see evidence of a sinister Dutch plot to create a legion of deadly supercommuters.

Sincere thanks to everybody for reading, commenting, emailing, and generally rubbing your bikes wherever and however you please. Ride safe this coming week, and I'll look forward to seeing you again on Tuesday, May 26th.

--BSNYC/RTMS









1) This rider loves:

--BARSPINZ!

--NOBR AKES

--AZN PPL!

--A good corned beef sandwich

2) The person who submitted this bike to Fixedgeargallery built it for:

--Hanging as a mobile above his baby's crib

--Undersea exploration

--Use as a prop in a live Dr. Seuss play

--His girlfriend

3) There is a limit to what people will try to sell on Craigslist.

--True
--False




4) How do you know this bike is from Manchester, UK?

--Manchesterites Mancunians love Stryper
--It evokes the interior of the Haçienda nightclub
--It's finished in the colors of Manchester's new bike-share program
--It's obviously blind drunk






5) What does this image depict?

--A fixed-gear skid patch analyzer app for the iPhone
--Knog's new "Tire Newt" lights
--The areas of varying tread thickness on Soma's new "Everwear II" fixed-gear-specific tire
--The phenomenon known as "rim throb"




6) What is most remarkable about this bike?

--The improvised frontal filth prophylactic
--The excess padding on the bars coupled with the lack of padding on the saddle
--The kickstand
--All of it. The gestalt is mindblowing.

7) Why does this car have a boat on it?

--The Fixed-Gear Apocalypse is upon us and the driver is fleeing Brooklyn
--It's one of those new amphibious Volkswagens, the "Flip n' Float"
--It's Drive Your Boat to Work Day
--The driver is going to "slay" some boating




8) How many companies are involved in this "collabo" called "The Complete Ride," which involves fixed-gear-specific sneakers and bikes with matching "colorways?"

--Two
--Four
--Six
--Eight




The ________ is made in collaboration with master milliner Victor Osborne and designed with the highest attention to detail. ____ started with Italian tropical wool suiting, known as the finest cloth in the world and graded in terms of a Super number. The higher the number, the finer the wool. These caps are all made from Super 80s or better, which means they will have similar performance qualities to our premium merinos. Perfect for riding across town and still looking refined and sophisticated on your next date.

9) What product does this copy refer to?

--The $75 Outlier Tropical Wool Cap
--The $175 Rapha Gentlemen's Bonnet
--The $7.50 Nashbar "Head 'Em Off" Cycling Cap
--The $595 Derby Day Hat from The J. Peterman Company



10) What is this?

--An attachment from a very strange email I received from Blair Underwood
--An attachment from a very strange email I received from Grant Petersen

--My entry in the Zeit-Bike competition, in which the City of Tacoma and Tacoma Art Museum are inviting artists to create spoke cards that promote bicycling in Tacoma

--An ad for Specialized's new Langster Tacoma

***Special Canine Footwear-Themed Bonus Question***

This dog's shoes are SPD compatible.

--True
--False

Illusions: Fake Twitters and Strange Looks

Firstly, I'm afraid I have an order of mundane business I need to get out of the way. You may recall that some time ago I was "Twitterjacked." However, people do still seem to be under the impression that this is in fact me, since whoever Twitterjacked me cunningly linked my email to the fake Twitter account. This means I receive notifications when people begin "following" my fake Twitter. So if you are one of those people, please know that this:


...is not me. (I did contact Twitter at some point, but so far they have been unresponsive.)

Furthermore, my fake Twitter officially jumped the shark yesterday when I received an email notifying me that my fake Twitter is now being followed by another fake Twitter:



Please note that this is not me either, and that these are not my twitters, tweets, twats, or twangs. Mind you, I have nothing against Twitter, though I don't really see the point of an anonymous and loquacious blogger using a medium that is based entirely on communicating your intimate personal details with a paucity of words. Should that change in the future and I do start twaddling, I assure you I will let you know, but in the meantime you can assume that any Twitters bearing my name are counterfeit and that I am reserving my words for this blog and Bicycling magazine. (My Bicycling column is pretty short, so in a way it's my monthly Twitter.) And in the meantime, should I feel compelled to express myself with even more brevity, I'll just use Knuckle Twatter instead. Here's one of my recent Knuckle Twats, which is a ride report of my last offroad epic:

Get your own knuckles at the knuckle tattoo gun.

Get your own knuckles at the knuckle tattoo gun.

Get your own knuckles at the knuckle tattoo gun.

It was truly an awesome ride. I "slayed" some singletrack, and then I slayed myself.

Now that I've gotten the whole Twitter thing out of the way, I find myself wishing that the fiasco that is Bike Month was also out of the way, since things are getting pretty bad (or "gnarly," as they say in singletrack-slaying parlance) out there. Certainly I don't expect things to get any better in June, but run-of-the-mill mistreatment just feels worse when it's supposed to be Bike Month in the same way that insults tend to sting just a bit more on your birthday. Indeed, a mere 24 hours after I was nearly the victim of an extremely douchey Malachi crunch, I was nearly hit by a cab.

This was a scenario familiar to most cyclists. I was riding along in the bike lane, minding my own business, obeying all traffic laws, and enjoying the feeling of the breeze ruffling the feathers of my chicken suit. Little did I know a cab was approaching from behind:



I got to the intersection well before the cab. Furthermore, I had the green light, so I proceeded straight ahead with the confidence of a prized gamecock. However, at this point the cab driver decided to make a left. Moreover, he didn't see me, so he cut me off and almost hit me in the process:


Naturally, I didn't want to end up like this:

I loudly admonished the driver with a series of obscene clucks, but he still didn't notice me and continued to bear down on me. So next I unclipped and kicked the side of his cab. Amazingly, he still didn't notice me. This was no gentle tap, and I was not wearing my dainty little Vittoria ballet shoes, either--I was wearing something with a substantial sole. By this point, he had completed his turn and I had avoided being hit, though I was still amazed that after both the invectives and the kick he still hadn't acknowledged me. Granted, cab drivers are used to running down people and small animals and it takes a lot to get their attention, but a swift kick is usually sufficient.

Curious, I followed him and eventually intercepted him. I explained what had happened, and mentioned I had even kicked his cab. He laughed, and said, "Really?!?" He responded in exactly the same way your stoner friend does when you've been standing outside in the rain, he finally lets you in, and you say, "What the hell? I've been ringing the buzzer for 20 minutes!"

"Really?!?"

At any rate, he assured me he'd be more careful, and he didn't even seem to mind when I told him I had to photograph him for my project:



Not only that, but he even continued to laugh. It could be that despite the fact that it was Thursday morning he had begun his shift on Wednesday before midnight, so perhaps he was still under the influence of the "Wednesday weed." In any event, I think he adds some much-needed mirth to my Wall of People Who Have Almost Killed Me Fame:

Speaking of mirthful countenances, few people can rival Ivan Basso when it comes to smiling in difficult or unpleasant circumstances. If you've been watching the Giro d'Italia or even simply perusing the photos on Cyclingnews, you'll notice that no matter how tough things get he's always grinning helmet strap-to-helmet strap:


Of course, the fact is that Basso simply has a grimace that looks like a smile, but I'm sure that makes it no less irritating to his stone-faced rivals. In conditions such as these even the illusion of mirth can wreak havoc with the psyche. Take the chilling scene in "Platoon" for instance, in which a frightened Charlie Sheen Kevin Dillon murders an innocent villager whose grimace of fear he misinterprets:



But as disconcerting as Basso's facial expressions must surely be to his rivals, when it comes to facial contortions nobody comes close to Thomas Voeckler:


The above photo is not from the Giro, but it might as well be--he was in a breakaway yesterday and he was doing the same thing. You may recall that Voeckler's stint in yellow during the 2004 Tour de France inspired Phil Liggett's famous "suitcase of courage" comment, and Voeckler has been delivering maudlin performances ever since. Basically, he's the cycling equivalent of present-day Al Pacino--there's a lot of bluster and overacting, but in the end it goes nowhere. Voeckler may have a "suitcase of courage," but he's also got a "valise of schmaltz," a "velvet evening clutch of futility," and an entire steamer trunk of twisted facial expressions. I wonder if he looks like that when he mows his lawn.

On the other hand, if you want an impenetrable race face, look no further than Letle Viride:


Feeling strong? Suffering? Thinking about cheese? It's anybody's guess:


Leipheimer is riding well so far, but that's not stopping the commentators on Universal Sports from completely ignoring him. If you thought Phil and Paul mentioned Armstrong a lot, Universal have taken it to a completely different level--I think they're actually recording the broadcasts and then going back into the studio and overdubbing additional Lance Armstrong mentions. They're like that guy in "Crazy People" who can't stop saying "Hello."

Since Leipheimer's visage is so stoic, I visited his Twitter to see if I could get any insight:

Strange that he's pleased about the doping control--I guess things have gotten so Orwellian in cycling that the riders have to pretend to like it. Clearly, Leipheimer's Twitter is as stonefaced as he is. So, desperate for some dirt, I checked in with Dennis Hopper:



I couldn't help thinking this giant ad is a figment of Hopper's imagination, and this suspicion was reinforced by his next "tweet:"



Scraps must have been giving him the Basso.

Smoked Salmon: Lock Your Bike, Don't Lox It

Since yesterday's PSA was a resounding success (despite the fact that even I went "commando" today in the fender department) I've decided to create another one. Unlike fender use, which is really something that doesn't affect other cyclists unless they're riding right behind you, this new PSA targets a group of riders who are a menace to us all. I am referring of course to those directionally-challenged irritants known as "bike salmon." Hopefully this will help them understand that they've got it all backwards:

As you can see, this is sort of a twin-pronged PSA in that it addresses both bike salmoning and personal hygiene, and it's designed to help clean up both our city's streets and our city's crotches.

In the meantime, though, salmoning is rampant. (On the streets, that is. That should not be construed as a crotchal reference.) Just this morning in fact I had a salmon encounter that incorporated so many infuriating elements I might have very well attempted to flog myself to death with my own fenders had I been palping them:


Please note the following elements (from left to right):

--Self-important person blithely texting in bike lane;
--Self-important person's German luxury car with Jersey plates also in the bike lane;
--Trek Madone (with aerobars!) on the roof of German luxury car with Jersey plates;
--Approaching bike salmon in sport jacket.

Ordinarily, any one of these elements by themselves would be annoying enough. When taken all together though it's nothing less than a perfect storm of stupidity; a clustercoital nightmare; a moronic morass so sticky and deep it simultaneously makes me doubt the existence of a God that would allow this to happen yet convinces me that God indeed exists though he lives only to pester me.

Nonetheless, like a cyclocross rider on a muddy course, I resolved to simply power through it. Claiming my rightful line, I forced the salmon to take evasive action, and also managed to get a shot of his soft underbelly as I passed:


Note the headphones. I wonder if he also listens to his music backwards and with his earbuds reversed. Either that, or perhaps there are backwards messages hidden in his Clap Your Hands Say Yeah or whatever other neutered "indie" rock band he may be listening to which are commanding him to ride counter to traffic. In any case, I was pleased to find after developing the photograph and emerging from the darkroom that I did at least force him to grab a fistful (or at least a pinkieful) of brake. And fortunately for him, he survived the encounter, and I'm sure he made it safely to work where he annoyed his colleagues by flushing the toilet before using it and not after, or whatever else it is bike salmon do with the rest of their days.

Apparently, though, not every New York City bike commuter's trip is fraught with tribulation. A reader recently forwarded this video of another New Yorker's commute, which is in marked contrast to my own experiences:


I'd be very interested in knowing what kind of job this person has, since his (or her) commute seems to consist entirely of looking at pretty things. Is he an LSD tester? Does he work as a professional gnome, running around Central Park in a pointy hat and amusing tourists? Maybe he's some kind of poet laureate and he's going to sit on a bench and write some treacly crap about the guy with the saxophone. He should try actually riding in the street and dealing with ugly crap like the rest of us. Then he could ditch the poetry gig and start writing death metal lyrics.

Here's another bike commute (this one from Raleigh, NC) forwarded to me by another reader:


That's a pretty busy cockpit he's got there--I'm not sure I'd be able to find the time to use all that stuff in 3.6 miles. I suppose I'd be able to switch on the light, and maybe I'd manage to ring the bell once or twice if I were to go out of my way to do so, but there's no way I'd get around to scrolling through any of the functions on the computer. Then again, the streets of New York are busier than the streets of Raleigh, so it could just be that handlebar clutter varies inversely with population density. Take London for instance. That's a very busy city, and people there don't put anything on their bars at all:



But while the handlebars may be bare, there's no shortage of leather elsewhere on the bike. Those massive toe straps look like western stirrups, and the bars look like the bike is flexing its "guns." Maybe the leather bands on the frame are supposed to be weightlifting belts. It's the Hans & Franz of fixed-gears:


I wonder if the rider looks like Patrick Swayze.

But if the bike above is a power lifter, this white bike with its dainty riser bars and "Bike Love" message is decidedly more diminutive:


It makes me think of a lemur doing a pirouette:


Yes, New York City is filled with pirouetting lemurs. Rumor has it that they defected from the Bolshoi in the 1960s, escaped the Soviet Union in a shipment of Volga engine parts, and eventually made their way to the USA. Of course, since New York is now rife with agile lemurs, it's a very bad idea to leave your helmet outside with your bike, since you could return to find one of them sleeping in it:


There was no lemur in this helmet (believe me, I checked) though I must say that this is awful helmet placement. Helmets tend to smell of their owners, and dogs love smelling things that smell like people. And anybody who's watched a dog knows that once they've finished smelling something they urinate on it. Furthermore, as I've said before, anybody who's watched anybody walking a dog in New York City knows that people let their precious dogs urinate on absolutely anything. I see dogs urinate on bicycles all the time. The only explanation I can possibly come up with is that the person is actively trying to collect canine urine samples. Maybe he works for the UCI.

But if the emails I've been receiving lately are any indication, there's no place stranger than Sweden. First of all, people there are riding sex swings:

According to the website, the Pedersen bike is "designed as a series of triangles" to "obtain the maximum amount of lateral rigidity." Furthermore, the "hammock-saddle" gives "a comfortable ride, which is to the advantage of people with back trouble." Now that's what I call "laterally stiff and vertically compliant"--there's nothing more vertically compliant than a hammock. Still, I don't buy the "back trouble" thing. That sounds too much like an excuse someone might give for having a vibrator. If you're going to rub a bike with a "banana hammock," at least be up front about it.

But while a "ride" on a Pedersen might put a glide in your stride and a dip in your hip, there are other bikes in Sweden that will lock up your strut instead of loosening it up:


Oh yeah. That's not going anywhere.

And neither is this:

Now that's a safe way to commute by bike. I wonder what the bike salmon in Sweden do, though. Maybe they just pedal backwards.

The Indignity of Commuting by Bicycle: Competition

As you probably know, May is "Bike Month"--both here in New York City and across the whole US or A. Never one to shirk my responsibilities as a cyclist, I've decided to help out by creating a PSA. However, I'm not going to promote the same old tired causes. Helmets? Whatever. Until they come out with a helmet that makes you smarter helmets can only do so much. Hand signals? Meh. I recently witnessed someone nearly crash while attempting to make a hand signal, so until you're able to control your bicycle without both hands on the bar you should probably let your destination remain a mystery. No, I've decided to flog my pet cause (flogging your pet cause should not be confused with "foffing off") by creating a NYC-themed PSA for fenders:


See, it's not that getting wet is a big deal. Really, it's what you're getting wet with. Even on the sunniest days New York City is awash with fluids, and these can range from benign substances like water from opened fire hydrants and spilled Snapple to more distasteful ones such as hot dog water and coffee spilled out by taxi drivers to the really horrific ones such as urine, garbage water, and vomit. The latter in particular are things with which you do not want to make contact, and a LRFP (Low-Riding Filth Prophylactic) such as the one below will only offer you minimal protection:


Next time you're cleaning crust off the bottom of your downtube, try not to think about what that crust is.

But while Bike Month is billed as "a month of cycling celebration," nothing could be further from the truth. If you commute by bicycle here in New York City, bike month is actually an intense competition. Now that the weather's warm and dry, the streets are full of commuters who are united by one goal: to ride faster than other commuters. Even if you're not competitive yourself, you can probably appreciate the beauty of competition now and again. Whether it's cycling, or running, or boxing, or even sailing, there's something about watching evenly-matched and similarly-equipped rivals striving to triumph over one-another that speaks directly to the human spirit. Conversely, there's something pathetic and absurd about watching completely mismatched rivals with totally different equipment trying to race one-another, which is what commuting in New York City is like, and I was unfortunate enough to witness a particularly egregious example of this yesterday evening:


Yes, that is indeed a guy on Rollerblades attempting to get on the wheel of a guy riding a three speed and wearing a beret. You'll notice the guy in the beret is also out of the saddle and doing his best to drop the Rollerblader and get on terms with a second group of commuters further up the road:



Witnessing a struggle like this is slightly less awe-inspiring than watching a bunny rabbit and a chinchilla racing to be first to the water bottle. It actually made the race between the guy on the Trek road bike (complete with filth prophylactic) and the guy with the step-through Schwinn fixed-gear conversion and the Promenade bars I had observed moments before seem "epic" in comparison. Actually, I think they comprised the breakaway group that beret guy was trying to catch.

Generally speaking, I don't engage in competition when I commute. (I don't really engage in competition when I race, either--there's nothing particularly competitive about clinging tenuously to the back of the pack.) However, that does not stop other commuters from competing with me. For example, there's an unwritten rule among New York City bike commuters, and it applies to all riders, regardless of age, fitness, or style of bicycle. This rule is as follows:

If you stop at a red light and there is already another cyclist waiting at it, you must stop your bicycle in front of the rider who is already there.

As far as I know, I am the only cyclist in New York who does not observe this rule, because while I'm quite happy to queue up behind somebody at an intersection, I have never, ever had somebody stop behind me. If you're waiting, someone will pull up ahead of you. If a third person comes, they'll roll ahead and stop in front of the second person. On a busy day, this accumulation results in sort of a shoal of cyclists which juts out into the middle of the street like a sandbar of idiocy. I observed this shoaling effect once again just this morning, as you can see here:



Mind you, I was the first rider at this light. Note that the guy on the hybrid, the guy on the Raleigh, and the messenger have passed me, rolled through the crosswalk, and lined up in front of one-another in eager anticipation of the light change. As I snapped the photo, they were joined by some schlub on a skateboard carrying an envelope, and shortly after he arrived came a woman with a flowery scarf:



You'll see the schlub on the skateboard went immediately to the front of the group. (Perhaps he had a bunch of points in the New York City stoplight race series and got a call-up, but if he did I didn't hear it.) Unfortunately for scarf woman, before she was able to get in front of him, the light changed. And they're off!



I haven't seen a start this explosive since the Cyclocross World Championships in Hoogerheide. I think the messenger got the holeshot, though the schlub on the skateboard with the envelope may have been skitching off him. As for me, I couldn't stay with scarf woman, so a gap opened immediately. I may have lost the race, but I like to think I preserved some dignity.

But when it comes to absurd competitions completely bereft of dignity, New York City bicycle commuting can't come close to fixed-gear freestyling. I was visiting Trackosaurusrex recently when I saw this video of a fixed-gear freestyle competition, which makes yesterday evening's Rollerblade-vs-beret race look like Andy Hampsten on the Gavia Pass in 1988:

Most people have heard the expression "familiarity breeds contempt." Well, until now I never thought it applied to fixed-gear freestyling. Sure, the "sport" has been around for at least a few years now, but instead of growing contemptuous of it you sort of just get used to the absurdity. So really, familiarity with fixed-gear freestyling doesn't breed contempt--it breeds indifference. However, this display of riding was nearly enough to change that. While I can't say I experienced full-blown contempt, it definitely ratcheted my "meh" up to "vehemehnce:"



Basically, these guys just ride around in circles, lifting their front wheels occasionally. Amazingly, there are actually people who have gathered to watch this, and they golf-clap appreciatively whenever someone fails to land yet another "trick." Since I can't possibly imagine anybody would go out of their way to watch this, my guess is that this group of people assembles regularly at this parking lot regardless of what's going on--they probably stand there during the week too and golf-clap when someone manages to get out of his Ford Focus without spilling his Starbucks. For me though, by far the most exciting moment was when some guy in a tie-dye shirt ran through the shot:


Now that takes skill.

Yes, while fixed-gear freestyling continues to grow in popularity, it's hard to say whether the "sport" is actually evolving or just getting long in the chainring tooth. Not only is the wardrobe, pacing, and crowd reaction growing increasingly golf-like, but the participants are beginning to experience repetitive motion injuries as well. After watching the above video, I headed over to fixed-gear freestyle impresario Prolly's blog to see if I could find anything better, and I was concerned to read this:


The turning point in any subculture is when people's bodies start rebelling against their wardrobes. It's like having to add a few more rounds to your bullet belt to accommodate your swelling midsection, or needing bifocals to read your own knuckle tattoos. And nothing is less cutting-edge than sensible footwear. Just wait until people start experiencing messenger bag-related lower back problems. The Fixed-Gear Apocalypse may not come with a bang or a wimper; it may just come with a lot of complaining.

Indulgence: How Much is Too Much?

When it comes to professional cycling, there's only one thing more compelling than a Grand Tour, and that thing is a nice juicy (or powdery) drug scandal. So even though the Giro d'Italia is well under way (in Italy, I believe) all the attention is currently on Classics star Tom Boonen, who has once again tested positive for cocaine. However, the good news is that Boonen does not have a cocaine problem. Rather, he's got such a bad drinking problem that cocaine just seems to enter him by accident:


I do not think I have a problem with cocaine, I have problems when I drink too much. 364 days per year I am good. But if I drink too much, it's exactly like I change in my head...

I need help. Someone should teach me to understand what happens when I drink too much.

There's nothing funny about drug and alcohol abuse--except when it leads to lots of wacky hijinx and comic pratfalls, of course, in which case it's absolutely hysterical. As such, I found Boonen's cry for help quite moving, mostly because it was accompanied by a complete lack of slapstick. (If Boonen had, say, puked on Phil Liggett, jumped into a Lamborghini with Paola Pezzo and Mario Cipollini, and then crashed into that caveman-like statue of Eddy Merckx, I'd be less inclined to take it seriously.) So as cyclists, I believe we need to heed Boonen's plea and stage our own intervention. And since Boonen's problem seems to be that he doesn't understand what happens when he drinks too much, I've done my part by assembling some PSAs that are guaranteed to both teach him and scare him straight.

Here's a chilling film which, if I'm understanding it correctly, is a dramatization of what's happening inside your brain when you drink:



I think what this is saying is that when you drink you kill brain cells, and consequently your brain can no longer handle its workload. Personally, this was more than convincing enough for me, and immediately after watching it I poured every drop of liquor in my home into the toilet. However, a true problem drinker like Boonen probably needs more convincing, so in order to drive the point home I found another video:



Now that's what I call intense. It makes that last video look like an episode of the "Teletubbies." I had already poured my booze into the toilet, but this one actually drove me to flush the toilet. (If you came over to my place for cocktail hour yesterday evening, you might want to gargle some Listerine.) But you know how it is with celebrities. Once they're on that path of self-destruction it can be almost impossible to steer them off of it. I figured what Boonen needs is a video that speaks to him in a language he understands, and that language is of course cheesy Dutch R&B:



So please join me in raising an O'Doul's to Tom Boonen, and here's hoping he dries out soon. Incidentally, if Boonen is drinking so heavily that he's consuming cocaine without being aware of it, who knows what else is entering him unwittingly? After all, there are certain foreign bodies that don't show up in doping controls. I just hope nobody's been giving Boonen the "pinky test," if you know what I mean.

Speaking of strange bars and places to put your hands, a reader recently sent me some absolutely awe-inspiring cockpit shots:


This bicycle has more hand positions than someone reciting "Atlas Shrugged" in sign language, and it's proof once again that anything is possible with bar-ends. Really, the only way this rider could outdo himself would be to incorporate controls from other vehicles as well, such as a steering wheel, a joystick, and perhaps even a rudder. Here's a shot from another angle, which gives you a better sense of what it's like to be at the helm of this incredible craft:

I sincerely hope that Tom Boonen sees this bike one day, because it could certainly teach him a thing or two about being in control. I do find it odd though that, with all the attention to detail, the rider has omitted the padding on the forearm rests. Incidentally, I'm going to let you in on a little secret: while most riders use some kind of foam in this application, the hot new setup among the pros is silicone breast implants. Rumor has it that Lance Armstrong was the first person to use them for time-trialing, since he developed a taste for artificial breasts during his stint as a retired celebrity playboy and wanted to find a way to keep his hands on them when he got serious again and returned to the sport. Naturally, once the Patron started doing it the trend swept through the peloton and beyond, and now there's actually a brisk silicone breast implant trade on eBay. I've never used silicone breasts for time-trialing so I can't say whether or not they work, but I will say that if you're a recovering addict you should probably avoid them. I'm sure if Tom Boonen had a pair of fake breasts on his handlebars he'd be trying to do drugs off them before he got off the starting ramp.

As I said earlier, drug and alcohol abuse should not be taken lightly. Furthermore, as cyclists, we're more susceptible than most to excessive behavior. The same impulses that lead us to train obsessively, upgrade compulsively, and dress ridiculously can also manifest themselves in overly indulgent behavior off the bike. For example:

Solo wing-eater at Croxley Ales - w4m - 26 (East Village)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-05-10, 10:18PM EDT

You were eating wings tonight by yourself, but you were sitting behind me, so I didn't get to look at you too much. I was with two of my girlfriends in the dark corner. I kept accidentally hitting you with my bike helmet, and for that I apologize :-) I so wanted to talk to you, but unlike all the other charming women in the city, I have no game :-) I think you're adorable and because you seem way too nice, you probably aren't at home reading craigslist missed connections. But on the off chance that you are, and you're single, and you'd like to be wacked in the side again with my bike helmet, shoot me an email and we can indulge in some greasy 50-cent bar wings together!

One day you're just taking an innocent ride, and the next thing you know you're on a booze-and-chicken-wing bender getting beaten with a cycling helmet. The fact is, more cyclists are injured in drunken cycling safety equipment bondage sessions than are saved by helmet use. Don't become another statistic--how many of us need to wake up beaten and surrounded by empty chicken buckets with our hands and feet u-locked to four poster beds before we change our Boonen-like ways? Yes, it's a slippery slope to self-destruction, and that's because it's coated with chicken grease.

Sadly, though, the perversity isn't going to end soon. This past Saturday, "Bicycle Fetish Day" took place in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and a reader snapped this shot of a reverse-drive tall bike:



Meanwhile, half a world away in Taiwan, somebody's rubbing a Chunk:


Still, there are some encouraging signs. This ride may have riser bars and no brakes, but the rear rack is a nod to the "new practicality," and it's also locked up very securely:


Not sure about that steep head tube angle and proprietary headset though.

BSNYC Friday Fun Quiz!

Firstly, it gives me great pleasure to finally announce the winner of that wacky Fat Cyclist contest. Please join me in congratulating Brad Wedemeyer:


Brad not only looks like that guy from Queens of the Stone Age, but he also looks really fit, which is bad news for me since we're going to "slay" a road ride and I'll probably get "dropped" like a new fixed-gear product. Moreover, Brad is soon to find out that my company is slightly less scintillating than that of the tree with which he is pictured, so my plan is to spike his Enervit with neuroenhancing drugs so that I'll seem more interesting. After than, we'll have lunch, at which point he will be mobbed for autographs by Queens of the Stone Age fans and I'll be left sobbing in my "Moons Over My Hammy." (Brad doesn't yet know I'm taking him to Denny's.)

Speaking of drugs, you've probably heard by now that baseball-playing guy Manny Ramirez has been suspended for doping. Now, I have no interest in baseball, partially because it's arguably an SIB (or "Sport Involving Belts"), and also because I was once knocked out by an aluminum bat at day camp and have not been right since. Nonetheless, I was especially amused by this comment from Ramirez:

Unfortunately, the medication was banned under our drug policy. Under the policy that mistake is now my responsibility. I have been advised not to say anything more for now. I do want to say one other thing; I’ve taken and passed about 15 drug tests over the past five seasons. [emphasis mine]

15 drug tests in five seasons? Please. Passing three tests a year is nothing to brag about. Lance Armstrong gets tested 15 times during a single episode of "Gossip Girl." (I hear he never misses an episode.) Anyone who follows the sport of cycling knows that these baseball guys are obviously way behind the curve. If doping and drug testing were fashion, cycling would be downtown New York City and baseball would be some rural eastern European town where people have just discovered the Beatles and they're finally getting episodes of "Mister Ed." Now, don't get me wrong--I think incessant testing is absurd. However, as a jaded cycling fan who's beyond tired of the sport's obsession with doping, I'm perversely pleased that at least baseball fans now have to deal with it too.

And with that, I'm presenting you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think carefully, and click on your answer. If you're right you'll know it, and if you're wrong you'll see what is either a bicycle safety PSA or an anti-LSD PSA, I'm not entirely sure which.

Ride safe this weekend, and go easy on the hallucinogens. Oh, and if you're in Minneapolis go see Stevil of HTATBL's art show (which you can enjoy with or without hallucinogens).

--BSNYC/RTMS



1) This picture, forwarded by a reader in Geneva, Switzerland, is evidence that:

--Geneva needs more bike racks
--Dutch city bikes and fixed-gears have begun to breed
--The Loch Ness Monster may have relocated, as its head is visible through that tri-spoke
--Jan Ullrich is at a nearby bakery, as this is clearly his bike





2) This bicycle is remarkable because:

--It appears to have a TTMMM (Top Tube-Mounted Mini Maglite)
--It appears to have a spare tire lodged in the spokes
--Those appear to be the very pedals on which Bernard Hinault won the Tour de France in 1985
--All of the above




3) Locking a folding bike outside is like:

--Using an eccentric rear hub on a bike with track ends
--Using a pie plate on a fixed-gear
--Riding a tandem by yourself
--All of the above



4) Good news for bicycle commuters! New York City has finally implemented a new bike lane concession program!

--True
--False




5) What are these?

--Pipe flanges
--Part of the overhead cam assembly on a 1978 Suzuki GS750
--Worn bushings from a Mavic freehub
--Some goofy bike rack in Seattle




6) Where in Canada can you find these bike racks, from which bikes can be stolen by removing a single bolt?

--Vancouver, BC
--Toronto, ON
--Banff, AB
--Buffalo, NY



7) Which is not a good reason to buy this bike, which was for sale this morning in Brooklyn?

--You often travel with a small dog
--Your Dutch city bike is too "racy"
--You're in a hurry
--Water bottle bosses mean you stay hydrated without taking up valuable basket space




8) The owner of this bike wants to trade it for a:

--90s Redline BMX
--80s Italian road bike
--Dutch city bike
--Danish cargo bike





9) Why is this car ironic?

--It's in the bike lane
--It's a New York Yankees car with New Jersey plates
--The dashboard sported an "Official MLB Urine Collection Vehicle" parking permit
--Manny Ramirez was driving

***Special Wheelbrow-Themed Bonus Question***

Which pro cyclist palps a fixed-gear with fenders?

--Christian Vande Velde
--Dave Zabriskie
--Jens Voigt
--Andy Schleck

Bike Setups: Low Brows, High Headtubes

With the Giro d'Italia starting this weekend, the Grand Tour season is officially upon us. If you think of professional cycling in terms of popular entertainment, the Classics are kind of like Neil LaBute plays in that you watch them in one sitting and they're all about suffering, whereas the Grand Tours are more like Lifetime miniseries since they take place over a span of weeks and are full of schmaltz and melodrama. Another hallmark of the Grand Tours is the rumor, speculation, and controversy they always generate. One particularly controversial rider is Alexander Vinokourov, who was suspended for doping but is hoping to return in time to contest the Vuelta a España. And in another journalistic coup, a reader has forwarded me a photo of what appears to be Alexander Vinokourov training stateside:



Vino appears to have accumulated some leg hair during his suspension, and he's also clearly grown a foot or two (in height--he always had feet), but he hasn't lost that look of determination:


Nor has he gained any eyebrows:



Speaking of eyebrows, as I predicted on Monday, this is indeed turning out to be a wet, wheelbrowy kind of week. Indeed, the New York City metropolitan area is like a drunk on a bender right now in that there's no way it's going to dry out before the weekend is over. As such, I'm keeping the Peter Gallagher Wheel Eyebrow Advisory (PGWEA) in place through Friday:


For Saturday, I'm replacing the PGWEA with a Noel Gallagher from Oasis Fudguard Warning (NGFOFW). It looks like the rain stops on Sunday, but I'm guessing the roads will still be wet in places, hence the Intermittent Vanilla Icebrow (IVI). The sun finally comes out on Monday, at which point hopefully we will finally experience clear Vinokourov wheelbrowless conditions.

In the meantime, New York City cyclists continue to cope with the dampness in a variety of ways. If you ride a designer track bike or a Dutch city bike, you simply leave your bike at home. (I'd been seeing lots of Dutch city bikes around town until the rain began. I guess the bikes are good for the rain but the cycle-chic wardrobes aren't.) If you ride a more pedestrian track bike, you rock a low-riding beaver tail-style filth prophylactic. And regardless of what you ride, you might even opt for a makeshift saddle-mounted rain bonnet:


This is a common sight on bicycles parked in New York City on rainy days, and it makes sense since nobody likes to sit on a wet saddle. Moreover in New York City it's nearly impossible to purchase even a tiny item without the shop proprietor shoving it in a plastic bag. Pack of gum? Bag. Purple Drank? Bag. Not buying anything but just need a bag for your saddle because it's raining out and you don't have one? Well, they'll give you one, but they'll put it in a bag. (Yes, you can say you don't need a bag, but the bagging process is so deeply ingrained in their muscle memory that they can't stop themselves from doing it.) As such, we've been forced to find uses for all these bags, and making rain bonnets is just one of them.

Obviously, the bodega bag rain bonnet is free (unless you count the price of the Purple Drank), but I'm sure it will only be a matter of time before someone starts making them and trying to sell them to you. After all, Brooks saddles and vintage Turbos are all the rage, and you wouldn't want to sheathe one of those in just anything. Oh, wait, someone already is making them:

Never mind. (Interestingly, of all the things the Brooks owner apparently feels the need to protect his saddle from, his own ass isn't one of them.)

Speaking of contagion, nothing is easier to catch than the upgrade bug. Upgrading is a disease, and once you start upgrading your bike it spreads so quickly and easily that it makes the swine flu seem like ice cold cream cheese. No sooner do you put that fancy Brooks (or vintage Turbo, or Arione crabon) saddle on your bike than you start thinking about how crappy your seatpost is in comparison. Fortunately, giant headtube specialists Seven have finally come to the rescue with a new $325 titanium seatpost:

Price aside, I'm not sure what the point is of a "custom" seatpost that is only available in 27.2. I can certainly understand not being able to find a post in the right diameter for your frame and thus needing something custom, but you can change the length of pretty much any seatpost:

Yes, "customizing" your seatpost really is that simple. Buying this Seven seatpost is like buying a pair of "custom" shoes that only come in size 10 1/2--but you can "customize" the length of the laces.

But you can't really blame Seven for a gambit like this; after all, their tall headtube supremacy has been challenged by Serotta, as you probably noticed on Conan the Vinokourov's bike above, which features a truly monumental headtube:


Maybe if I had a lofty, intimidating headtube like this then "stroller salmon" would be afraid to play chicken with me (pardon the mixed animal metaphors) in the bike lane:



Though I'd also probably be too far away from the road to spot potential hazards:


Yes, glass can obviously damage your tires severely, so should always palp a top-tube serape:


This way, if you encounter glass, oil slicks, or rough pavement, all you need to do is unfurl your serape, lay it down over the obstruction, and then safely pass. Once you're across, simply shake out your serape, roll it up, and continue on your way. It's also especially handy for old-fashioned bike-date chivalry. (Note that you can rub an auxiliary serape on your headtube if yours is sufficently tall.)

Less useful in my opinion than the top-tube serape is the top-tube pad, which amazingly people continue to rock:



Not only that, but apparently they continue to covet Deep-Vs and Aerospokes, too. Frankly, I'd think these trends would be dying off by now, but it looks like they're not. Perhaps I was wrong and the new practicality is still a long way off.

Or is it? I was heartened to come across this entry from a frequent commenter on this very blog:



I enjoyed this entry for a number of reasons. Not only am I a fan of wheelbrows and easy-to-read diagrams, but the bike also appears to have Ortlieb panniers, and if I were a European pro I'd like my name to be Ortlieb Pannier since not only am I full of random crap but I can usually be found hanging off the back. Still, I did find this bike severely lacking in the headtube department:


Puts things in perspective, doesn't it?

Odds and Bar-Ends: Cannibal Time Trials, Vegan Bikes

As a cycling blogger, every so often I get the opportunity to break a big story. For example, some of you may be old enough to remember the Aerospoke crisis of aught-seven and the panic that ensued. Well, it's entirely possible I may be on the scent of another scoop. An informant in Boulder, CO has sent me the following photo of team Garmin-Slipstream which could have far-reaching implications:

According to the informant, the team was trackstanding en masse on a grassy field. While an ordinary cycling journalist might dismiss this as simply being some kind of bike-handling exercise, I refuse to accept facile explanations. Would Woodward and Bernstein have broken the Watergate scandal if Woodward hadn't bothered to return Deep Throat's calls? Would Fletch have broken the big story about the chief of police being involved in Los Angeles drug trafficking if he had simply listened to his editor? Would we know that Kirstie Alley has gained 83 pounds if People was afraid to ask the hard questions? The answer to all these questions is, of course, "meh." This is why I choose to probe deeper, and I'm currently working on three theories:

1) Garmin-Slipstream director Jonathan Vaughters is involved in a sinister plot to bribe the UCI to make fixed-gear freestyling a sanctioned discipline beginning in 2010, and he is training his squad in anticipation of this. Garmin-Slipstream will continue to ride Felt bicycles next year, though they'll move from the F1 SL to the Curbside.

2) Garmin-Slipstream's title sponsor makes shoddy equipment, though the team is contractually obligated to use their GPS products at all times. As such, what was to be a five-hour training ride wound up being fifteen minutes of riding around in circles in a local park.

3) Garmin-Slipstream's rigorous anti-doping policy does not extend to recreational drugs, and the team has just eaten a bunch of psychedelic mushrooms and is "tripping balls." When asked to comment, Jonathan Vaughters replied esoterically, "All you haters trip my balls."

At the moment, I'm leaning towards theory #3.

Of course, until I catch somebody red-handed (or at least with dilated pupils), all of this is simply speculation and my Pulitzer is but a fantasy. What I really need is 100-150 people to take to the streets on my behalf in order to uncover the truth, but another reader informs me they're already in San Francisco looking for a stolen bike:





Stolen Messenger Bike (In front of 400 McAllister)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-05-05, 9:35AM PDT

Stolen : This bike was stolen from in front of the SF superior Court house around 4pm to 4:20 pm on Monday, 5/4/09. Please understand that the bike described below is the way I make my living and there are approx. 100-150 people looking for this bike. All of these people have a tendency to take this kind of action against an individual of our community very personally, so the return of this bike is highly recommended. I will not take any responsibility for what they might do to anyone caught with this bike. I will pay a reward for any information that leads to the recovery of this bike. Also understand that there is a police report filed with the SFPD and this theft is considered grand larceny, a felony.

57cm Lemond Road Bike, Blue and White
Components are listed as such;
Chris King Headset- silver
Campi Centaur brake set - gunmetal grey
Campi Xenon cranks - 170mm length
Campi Chorus BB
Campi Veloce rear derailleur
Campi Chorus Front derailleur
Vuelta XRP Comp wheel set w/ Continental Gator Skin tires
3TTT Morph bars
Campi Chorus 9 spd shifters ( the right shifter paddle is a cut out version while the left one is not)
Black top tube pad and tan and white checker pad on seat tube
SRAM chain
Thompson Elite seat post
F' izik saddle
Ritchey comp stem
IDENTIFYING stickers:

CMWC Seattle sticker on the top inside of the seat tube
Black print sticker on white background stating " If you steal anything off this bike you will be beat about the face and head. "

The rear wheel was "free locked" to the seat tube with my Catlike helmet(white) attached to it.

IF YOU STOLE THIS BIKE AND RETURN IT, NO QUESTIONS WILL BE ASKED AND THE "DOGS" WILL BE CALLED OFF!


Firstly, I'd like to state quite clearly that I have nothing but respect for bike messengers as well as all delivery professionals (except for UPS drivers when they block traffic). Secondly, I'd also like to state that I empathize with anybody who is a victim of bike theft. Thirdly, even though it's completely irrelevant, while I'm making sweeping pronouncements I wish it to be known that I think there are far too many flavors of potato chip on the market and I think we've reached point at which the government should step in. Lastly, it should go without saying that if you have any information about this bike you should get in touch with the owner.

That said, this may very well be the most self-important reaction to a bike theft since Pee Wee's bike got stolen and he implicated the Soviets in his eponymous "Big Adventure." It could be that this self-importance is entirely justified, since this person apparently commands an army of 100-150 people who are willing to kill or maim for him, though it also could be typical messenger self-righteousness. As cyclists, we're all self-righteous in our own way, and messenger self-righteousness manifests itself in the attitude that they are performing a public service and as such should be afforded by society the same degree of respect and gratitude ordinarily reserved for firefighters and war veterans. Consequently, the only crime greater than "rocking" a bike or accessory traditionally rocked by a messenger is stealing a messenger's bicycle--even if that bicycle has been "free locked." "Free locking" a bike means simply locking the wheel to the frame instead of locking the whole bike to something else, and the term is especially fitting since it means the bike is "free" for the taking. Simply locking your bike to itself is like marrying your sibling, in that it's only slightly more convenient but the consequences are far more likely to be disastrous. You should always lock your bike to something that's difficult to make off with, and since nothing's more difficult to make off with than the planet Earth try locking up to it or at least something securely attached to it. (Otherwise, if you're not a bike messenger who commands an army of hundreds, you might wind up like this guy.)

Then again, this problem may just be something specific to LeMonds, since another reader spied this example of an unlocked "LeMondFoil" recently in New York City:

More likely, though, the bike is unlocked because it would be difficult or impossible to lock a frame like this--even if only to itself. Instead, the owner must resort to flipping the bike upside-down in the hope that a thief will be too confused to figure out how to ride it. I must admit, it almost succeeds, since in this configuration it looks more like some kind of modern office building sculpture than it does a bicycle. In any case, it's better than my own method, which involves leaving a bag of barbecue-flavored potato chips near my bike so that I can follow the thief's orange fingerprints.

And thieves aren't the only ones confused by strange-looking bicycles. The UCI also finds them bewildering, which is why they're placing new restrictions on time trial bikes. A reader forwarded me this article from the New York Times (which has been covering cycling recently with alarming frequency) in which Cervélo expresses concern that these new rules might kill their company:

While this might sound like the sort of paranoia so typical of Canadians, the UCI pretty much confirms this is exactly what they're setting out to do:

This is no idle threat, either--after all, it was just this sort of ruling that killed the Y-Foil in the first place.

Personally, I'm all in favor of forcing all riders to do time trials on regular road bikes "Cannibal-style." But when aero is outlawed, only outlaws will be aero. Erik K sent me this photograph (of a Cervélo no less) in which a pair of bar-ends provide for an extremely aggressive position:



I'm not sure if this setup is allowed for mass-start races, and frankly I can't be bothered to look it up. Regardless, it certainly is dangerous, since there's barely any room between the bar-ends and the tire and you run a good chance of completely scraping off your knuckle tattoos. No, you're much better off using them in the traditional manner, which is to create antlers:



This setup keeps your hands safely away from your tire, as well as from your flashlight loudspeaker:


According to the copy, this device eliminates "faffing about:"


Apparently, though, it still allows for "foffing off," which is what the guy in the picture appears to be doing.

But what if you're a tinkerer yet you're not interested in safety or multiple hand positions? Well, you can always palp a pair of brass knuckle grips:



This is an ideal setup for hunting a LeMond thief among an army of hundreds, as well as for crashing, being unable to remove your hands from your bars, and breaking all your fingers--though I'm sure they look great with knuckle tattoos.

Of course, if you're more of a peaceful sort, you can always rub a Vegan Masi, as spotted by a reader in Seattle:



I'm not entirely convinced this bike is vegan safe though, since there's nothing cheesier than Aerospokes.

The Indignity of Commuting by Bicycle: Compression

In yesterday's post, I mentioned that commuting by bicycle can be a battle. Well, that was certainly the case for me this morning. As I rode smugly along in the bike lane, duly obeying all the local ordinances (at least those pertaining to operating bicycles--I may have been rocking a Cone of Smugness but I only wear pants on special occasions) and silently congratulating myself for palping wheelbrows, I noticed a bike salmon approaching me head-on. Simultaneously, a taxi driver decided that now would be an opportune moment to pull over into the bike lane--so opportune, in fact, that he couldn't even spare a second to make sure nobody was there. As such, I found myself bound by parked cars on my left, a merging taxi on my right, and a moron of the order Velo-salmoniformes coming at me head-on.

At that moment, I knew that I was going to have to punch something. My first choice of course would have been the bike salmon, but there was really no way to do this since he was still a few feet away. So instead I settled on punching the taxi repeatedly, until the driver finally realized he was about to crush me and came to a stop. I lost track of the bike salmon at that moment, but I can only assume he either hopped onto the sidewalk or else leaped into the air, his white underbelly glistening in the soft light of a rainy morning. The driver was apologetic, but nonetheless I informed him that I was going to have to photograph him for my project. Here he is in the process of raising the window and quickly putting the taxi in "drive:"



And here he is alongside the guy I mentioned in the Times article:



I'm sure you'll agree the project is coming along nicely.

I wish I could say that this was my only brush with disaster in the last 24 hours, but unfortunately that is not the case, because yesterday evening I also found myself watching a few minutes of the "The Jazz Singer," starring hirsute schmaltz-monger Neil Diamond. As it happened, I tuned in during some kind of love montage, and I was amused to note that at one point Diamond and his love interest ride by on a tandem:


This was followed by the infamous Bangladeshi riot scene:


After which came one of the most tender depictions of lovemaking ever captured on celluloid:


Incidentally, Neil Diamond has a pretty impressive set of eyebrows. He may have looked pretty wobbly on that tandem, but I bet he could fix the hell out of a bike:


In more recent cycling news, Italian national champion Filippo Simeoni has returned his tricolore jersey in protest of his team's exclusion from the Giro d'Italia. Morever, Simeoni also believes that Lance Armstrong may be behind the snub, since they've got an ongoing feud and Armstrong did cockblock him on that Tour stage back in 2004. I suppose if this is true then it's somewhat troubling, though it's also pretty hard to take the whole thing seriously after all these years. Really, at this point Armstrong and Simeoni are less conspirator and victim than they are Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau in "Grumpy Old Men." I'm hoping that one day somebody makes a movie about the Armstrong/Simeoni feud, if only because Simeoni's hotheaded Italian outrage would make for some great hijinx. Just add Paul Kimmage as the pesky journalist (think the Ed Rooney character in "Ferris Bueller's Day off") and you've got comedy gold!

And fortunately for Simeoni, if he gets so fed up that he decides to leave the sport altogether, he can always get a job as a "biking concierge:"

This sounds like a perfect gig for Simeoni, since according to the article nobody has actually used this particular hotel's biking concierge yet, so he'd have all day free to sit around smoldering and plotting his revenge. This would also make a great movie--the story of a bitter and twisted Italian biking concierge in an Irish hotel could potentially be the "There Will Be Blood" of cycling movies.

Speaking of mounting pressure, the world of cycling is all abuzz recently with talk of compression garments:


This is actually a rare instance of fixed-gear riders being well ahead of the curve, since they've been wearing "compression garments" in the form of tight jeans for years:

While many have dismissed tight jeans as a fad, the truth is that the compression helps blood circulate blood to the heart. This may not translate into better cycling performance (at least as employed by the "fixters"), but it does allow them to reap maximum benefits from their American Spirit cigarettes and cheap canned beer. Unfortunately, this in turn can lead to premature aging, as you can see in the photo above.

And compression garments may not be the only thing triathletes and "hipsters" share; a reader in Seattle has spotted further evidence of the triathlon/hipster crossover in the form of this "hipsterized" Specialized Transition:


Meanwhile, a reader in the UK may have spotted a new trend in theft-prevention:



At first glance, the diminutive purple cable lock looks better suited to securing a teenage girl's ponytail than it does to securing a bike. However, upon closer inspection, a grave warning is visible:


Upon contemplating this message, the thief realizes that, if he steals this person's bike, then this person will be forced to ride his other bike: which is of course the thief's mum. And even the most hardened criminal does not want his mum to be ridden by a stranger. Thus, the stencil is indeed mightier than the lock.

Battling Stereotypes: Staying Dry in a Storm of Conflict

Cycling can be a battle. If you race, you do battle with the course and with other riders. If you commute, you do battle with traffic. If you're a randonneur (or, in English, a "rando-nerd"), you do battle with fatigue and the elements. And if you're a recumbent cyclist, you do battle with common sense. For this reason, generally speaking we cyclists tend to be docile, peace-loving people when we're off the bike. Not only have we already fought our battles while riding, but we're also just tired. For this reason, I was disappointed to learn that I've been unwittingly entered into the "Battle of the Blogs:"


I don't know what the "Battle of the Blogs" is, but my best guess is it's some kind of battle involving blogs. I also don't really understand the point of fighting against other blogs, especially when those other blogs really have nothing to do with your own. My blog, as you've probably figured out by now, is about cycling, whereas Brooklyn Vegan is about music. Here's a recent entry featuring a picture of Pete Seeger, who is celebrating his 130th birthday:



Now, I don't know who is organizing this "battle," or what they expect will take place. Are we supposed to lay down the metaphorical linoleum and take turns breakdancing? I have no intention of fighting with any blogs (except possibly "The Climb," though I think Robert Mackey probably abandoned cycling shortly after his final post), and I especially have no interest in fighting with a music blog. Moreover, I'm assuming Brooklyn Vegan is a vegan blog (judging from both the name and the absence of recipes involving animal by-products), and vegans are supposed to be peace-loving people just like cyclists are, so they probably don't want to fight me either. (Of course, the meekest of all people are vegan cyclists, who can be beaten into submission with stalks of steamed asparagus.)

So in the spirit of peace, century-old folk singers, and limp asparagus, I'm turning the other pannier on this so-called "Battle of the Blogs," and so if for some reason you're inclined to vote I encourage you to vote for Brooklyn Vegan. Hopefully that will put an end to the cycle of virtual violence, these people will stop bothering me, and I can go back to having real altercations with actual people while I'm riding.

Speaking of asparagus, a reader was recently at a Whole Foods in some part of the world, where he spotted this compelling brake lever setup:



A SCMNABL (or "Single Centrally-Mounted Non-Aero Brake Lever") is a rare sight indeed and I'm very grateful to this reader for sharing it. If someone at Brooklyn Vegan is reading right now, I hope they can somehow get word of this to Pete Seeger, who would doubtless be inspired to write a song about it. (It wouldn't be too hard; he could just take "If I Had a Hammer" and replace the word "hammer" with "Single Centrally-Mounted Non-Aero Brake Lever.") And as if the SCMNABL weren't inspiring enough, it's clear from the photos that the rider also palps a complete set of "wheel eyebrows:"



While much has been made of the "fender debate," the truth is that when it comes to "fenguards" not everybody takes a side. Some people are perfectly happy to ride a fenderless bike in good weather, and to rub a bike with fenders when conditions are poor. (You can run, rub, or palp fenders, but under no circumstances can you "rock" them. "Rocking" fenders is like "slaying" asparagus, or like a vegan being hungry enough to eat a horse.) If you're one of these craven ambi-fenderous wafflers, you probably check the weather forecast frequently so you can decide which bike to ride, and here in New York City it looks like it's definitely going to be a wet week:



At this point, Monday and Tuesday look like they're both going to be "wheel eyebrow" days, though things might dry out a bit on Wednesday so there's a chance you may not need them by then. However, rain will return later in the week, so I'm issuing a Peter Gallagher Wheel Eyebrow Advisory for Thursday and Friday:


Trust me, a PGWEA is not something you want to take lightly. You may even want to put some "wheel eyebrows" on your Land Rover for good measure:


But while you certainly can't count on dry weather in spring, you can at least count on the bridges being free of snow and ice, which is why I've been able to suspend the BSNYC Bridge Report (sponsored by Ragtote). Even so, there are occasionally other types of hazards on the bridge, so if you're still feeling apprehensive before setting out you can always check the NYC Bridge Report on Twitter, apparently brought to you by Transportation Alternatives:

I opined on Friday that the "bike community" can't work together, but clearly I've been proven wrong. Not only is it reuniting people with their lost eyeglasses, but it's also helping its members thwart the law. I guess the truth is that the "bike community" can work together, as long as "working together" means reminding people of things that are completely obvious yet stopping short of telling them that they're being stupid. Yes, of course the NYPD is ticketing cyclists for running lights and riding on sidewalks. Of course unlocked bikes are getting stolen. Still, the indignity cyclists feel when their unlocked bikes get stolen is rivaled only by the rage they feel when they're ticketed for breaking the law. Maybe next the NYC Bridge Report can issue a "schluffing advisory," or else remind local cyclists that the Williamsburg Bridge continues to connect Manhattan and Brooklyn. (Though Transportation Alternatives reminds you that they "assume no responsibility" for the Bridge Report and that it is "wholly advisory in nature," so if you cross the Williamsburg Bridge and somehow wind up in Jersey, or if you don't see a "schluffing advisory" and then get arrested for Hasselbecking somebody because you thought it was safe to ride on the sidewalk that day, don't go crying to them.)

But while the "bike community" may not believe in personal responsibility (in the "bike community," cyclists are always right as long as they're wearing helmets), the "triathlon community" is beginning to demand some accountability from its members. A reader has forwarded me this scathing article, in which a triathlon coach berates triathletes for their poor bike-handling skills:


Frankly, I'm pleased to see that somebody from the triathlon community is finally addressing this problem out in the open. Surely, one day triathletes will be able to conquer the stereotype that they can't handle their bikes. Similarly, one day people who wear short shorts and mustaches will no longer be unfairly stereotyped as people who can fix bikes:



Guy in short shorts who fixed my bike chain in williamsburg (Somewhere near the Bedford Stop)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-05-02, 5:55PM EDT

I stereotyped you as someone who knows how to fix bikes because you had short shorts on and a mustache. Anyways, I feel really stupid doing this right now but you seemed interesting, so let me know if you remember me!

Actually, I'd never heard of this stereotype, but there must be some truth to it since it seems like the mustachioed person was in fact able to help the poster. I wonder if people with thick eyebrows can also fix bikes:



If so, I'd give mine to Peter Gallagher any day.

BSNYC Firday Fun Quiz!

With the weekend nigh, a concerned cyclist has raised an interesting question:




Can Cyclists Stop Bike Thieves? - $1 (Williamsburg)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-04-30, 4:56PM EDT

I've noticed that bicycle theft seems to be on the rise, especially in my nabe of Williamsburg, and my rear wheel was recently stolen in broad daylight on a Manhattan street. What I keep wondering is, why doesn't anyone say anything when they see someone stealing a bike or parts? Or what about someone who's selling suspicious bikes or parts? Surely honest cyclists can do something to help stop this, no? Just calling the cops might be a start. Or maybe asking a suspicious guy if that's his bike/parts he's working on/selling, or where he got them. Maybe just don't buy suspicious stuff.

I gotta believe that if the bike community worked together to stop thieves all our rides might be safer. Anyhow, if you're a theif, all I can say is I hope I'm the one who sees you trying to jack a ride...


The answer to this question, is of course, "No." Firstly, the problem isn't that people don't say anything when they see bikes getting stolen; the problem is that people don't see the bikes getting stolen in the first place. This is because thieves are what experts on crime call "sneaky." Secondly, even when you do see a thief, you don't always know he's a thief. (This is part of the whole "sneaky" thing.) For example, not too long ago, I was walking down the street, juggling citrus fruit and whistling Shostakovich to myself in my usual fashion. As I perambulated, I noticed a fellow mount a department store mountain bike in front of a restaurant and then ride away. I thought nothing of it--after all, people mount department store mountain bikes and ride away all the time. However, moments later a delivery person emerged from the restaurant looking for his bike, at which point I realized I had witnessed a theft in progress. Naturally I felt bad for the victim. However, I certainly cannot be expected to stop and interrogate every person I see mounting a bicycle. Furthermore, how was I to know he was a thief in the first place? The brigand didn't even have the decency to wear a proper bandit's outfit! (See what I mean about thieves being "sneaky?") At any rate, by the time I realized what had happened, the thief was well out of citrus fruit range (I can hurl fruit with deadly accuracy) and there was little else to be done.

Actually, I should qualify that "No." There is one thing you can do to stop bike thieves. You can lock your bike properly. This doesn't always work, but it helps a lot. The delivery person's bike was locked extremely poorly, by which I mean not at all. Incidentally, to say that crime is on the rise in Williamsburg is a highly relative statement, since it's only fairly recently that people felt safe enough there to parade all sorts of expensive stuff up and down Bedford Avenue in the first place.

And as far as the "bike community" working together, we can't even agree on whether or not to use fenders, so I think forming a united crime-fighting force is still a bit far-fetched at this point. We'd never get past what kind of bikes they should ride or what kind of pedals they should use. (Somehow they'd probably wind up riding Dutch city bikes and wearing SCUBA fins.) So in the meantime, make sure to lock your bike and wheels.

Of course, locking your bike well requires a certain degree of mental acuity, and in the interest of helping you hone this acuity I'm pleased to present you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're correct you'll see either the item or some sort of affirmation. If you're incorrect, you'll be forced to endure this fixed-gear safety video.

Ride safe this weekend, and be sure to lock your bike, whip, steed, mount, ride, or crotch chariot.


--BSNYC





1) What's going on in this new "sheltered" bike lane?

--An impromptu "tween party" is taking place
--A pro-Vespa sit-in is taking place
--A commuter race is underway and this is the feed zone
--Cyclists are enjoying yet another morning commute free from obstructions





2) What's going on in this new "sheltered" bike lane?

--Somebody is hauling recycling
--Somebody is hauling dry cleaning
--Somebody has commandeered the bike lane with a flotilla of crap
--All of the above






3) The correct term for the plastic device mounted above the rear wheel of this bicycle is:

--"Fender"
--"Filth Prophylactic"
--"Mender"
--"Fudguard"






4) What are these people doing?

--Destroying acres of rainforest
--Building new mountain bike trails
--Performing their court-mandated public service after being arrested for cycling under the influence of alcohol
--Harvesting bamboo to build bicycle frames





5) What are these?

--Futuristic p-fars
--Futuristic exercise bikes
--Present-day stupidity
--All of the above





6) If you're a hipster Smurf and want a track bike, where's the best place to look?

--Craigslist
--eBay
--Your LBS
--Smurf Village






7) Which "The Smurfs" character would most likely palp this bike?

--Papa Smurf
--Grouchy Smurf
--Smurfette
--Gargamel







8) BDBMBL stands for "Backwards Dildo Bar-Mounted Brake Lever."

--True
--False

***Special Cycling-In-Non-Cycling-Publications Bonus Question!!!***

The author of the controversial Wired post "5 Inexplicable Fixie Fashions," as well as its back-pedaling follow-up, "The Great Gadget Lab Fixie Project," has recently discovered which popular cycling accessory?

--Knog Frogs
--Power Grips
--Oury Grips
--The "Bento Box"