Look deep into those terrified eyes and witness the horror of the End of Days:
Or maybe that's not the horror of the End of Days; maybe its just an intense canine craving for some Jerky Treats.
I realize this is a diminutive load that a
And other bikes:
Unfortunately, I don't own a ladder or a lawnmower, and while the carrying other bikes thing is intriguing it's also worth noting that putting a derailleur on your mountain bike is a good deal cheaper than purchasing a Big Dummy so you don't have to frantically spin your undergeared singlespeed to the trailhead. Then again, some people actually buy cars just to transport their singlespeeds to the trailhead, so I suppose all of this is relative, and I can certainly see how a multi-bike outing could be fun. In any case, in addition to the red thing I also carried some cheese:
At this point, the question isn't whether this bike is useful (it is) or difficult to ride (it isn't); it's how neatly a New York City apartment-dweller can integrate a nearly seven-foot-long bicycle into his or her life. As hard as we may be trying, this isn't Portland, and many of us live a good portion of our lives above street level. Furthermore, we don't always have the luxury of leaving our bicycles at street level, since that's where most of the crime takes place. I'll keep you posted, and if all else fails I can always unfurl the nylon flaps, form a crude lean-to, and live in the park:
Or, I could simply exchange it for another cargo bike with a shorter wheelbase:
At the End of Days, the Dachshund of Time shall meet the wise and all-knowing Pug of Perspicacity.
I'm guessing the gentleman on the right is the new owner; having just purchased the bike at the German Walmart, he's now perusing the owner's manual. Or, another way to get ready for the Apocalypse is to pretend that the chain drive never even happened in the first place. Yet another reader emailed me this photo, which is what the world of cycling would look like today if the "p-far" had remained the dominant bicycle design:
Apparently, in his universe cycling bypassed the chain drive and went straight to DayGlo. He's even using clipless pedals--though they couldn't be very good, since they didn't cost $630:
It also has a weight limit of 185lbs, which is yet another example of the Universal Rich Roadie Equipment Paradox: "If you can afford it, you are also too heavy to use it." As a corollary to that, if you lust after ridiculous equipment like this, you also wear white cycling shoes:
The above is a still from a Sidi commercial, in which Alberto Contador has substituted his trademark "fingerbang" with a "shoebang." You can see this commercial on the Sidi website, but I don't recommend you do that since it's buried and not directly linkable; furthermore, like all Italian websites the Sidi one is riddled with animation and bad music, and if you're at work it will cause you even more embarrassment than a porn site pop-up. However, also on the site is a commercial of which a number of readers have informed me, and one which I had not seen--until now. Yes, it's Filippo Pozzato naked, and he displays his unfinished back tattoo:
And even his nipple:
He also uses a pair of Sidis to censor his genitals:
While you might think that Pozzato has been slathered in some sort of cooking oil, the fact is that he has actually had himself permanently clearcoated. By the way, the only thing roadies love more than white Sidi shoes is obsessing over cosmetic flaws in their equipment, waking up in night sweats, and penning desperate epistles to Lennard Zinn:
In fact, late last night I found myself doing the same thing:
I have a Filippo Pozzato who has performed well since 2000. Now he has a small chip in his clearcoat, helped along no doubt when my helper monkey took a fancy to him. What's the best way to repair any damage?