Be-holed the Future: The Revolution Will Be Saddle-less

As any student of history knows, the bicycle is a machine that has been improving since its inception. First invented in approximately the 7th century BC, the bicycle immediately revolutionized human interaction--though these first bicycles had four wheels instead of two, and they placed more emphasis on hurling deadly projectiles than on simple, lightweight transport:

In fact, humankind was so captivated by the bicycle and its object-hurling capability that they began flinging things competitively. These loosely-organized competitions were called "wars," and they were the precursors to what we now know as "alleycats." However, humanity soon lost interest in "wars," which is why they are no longer fought today. Instead, to address the shifting interests of a fickle marketplace, bicycle manufacturers began to refine the bicycle's utility as a form of transportation, and by the 15th century AD the bicycle looked like this:



As you can see, in addition to abandoning what was technically called the "spoony flingy thing," bicycle manufacturers also moved from four wheels to zero. This was because something like two-thirds of the Earth's then-flat surface was covered with water, whereas the only road in existence at that time was the Great Silk Road from Europe to Asia, and it didn't even have any bike lanes on it. While this wheel-less bicycle was hugely successful and allowed riders to travel to and subjugate new continents, its main drawback was that it was incredibly difficult to "portage" up stairs and into apartments and early loft spaces--though the first fixed-gears were slightly more maneuverable:

But it would be another 400 years until the Earth adopted its current "round" shapeway and the bicycle industry "dropped" the two-wheeled "safety bicycle" design we all know and ride today (at least those of us who don't ride those freaky recumbents). Furthermore, it would be least a century from the advent of those first late-19th century "safety bicycles" to the moment the design was perfected and bicycle manufacturing reached its absolute, indisputable, awe-inspiring zenith:

Since then, it's all been "Gilding the Lily*."

*"Gilding the Lily" © 2010 Specialized Bicycle Components

For this reason, truly visionary designers know it's futile to try to improve the "safety bicycle," and instead they've been working on machines that will revolutionize cycling once again and do to the "safety bicycle" what the "safety bicycle" did to the "pennyfarthing." In recent years, we've seen a number of sublime attempts. There's the Mogo scooter:

(Note "epic" lamppost footplant.)

The ElliptiGO:

(ElliptiGO is the bicycle of choice for the man of ample bosom.)

And of course the "aerotrike:"



But as brilliant as each of these design am, none of they has the potential to consign the "safety bicycle" to the Graveyard of Idiotic Transport along with the riding dinosaur, the personal cannon, and the Pontiac Aztek--that is, until the Dreamslide was invented:



I was alerted to the Dreamslide by a fellow "Tweeterer" and I have no doubt that stomach-turning Euro-cheese soundtrack of the video is nothing less than the death knell of the now-obsolete "safety bicycle." This is because it has what those other designs lack. Consider the Mogo, for example. Sure, you can slay a sweet footplant off a lamppost, but can you use it for cyclocross? Or consider the ElliptiGO. While your male breasts may jiggle seductively as you ride along the coast, can you also descend on it like Paolo Savoldelli? (Or, more accurately, like Paolo Savoldelli's career?) Of course not. But you can do all of these things--and more!--on a Dreamslide. You can "throw down" in the town square:

And you can "hill bomb" in the countryside:

It even comes equipped with a Powercrank-like drivetrain to appeal to the "riding a bike isn't supposed to be fun" roadie set:

Plus, it's a "chick and/or dude magnet:"

But can you "portage" it and use it for Cyclocross 2.0 along with your tent and your chairs and your cooking equipment and your massage stick and your fragrant unguents and your pressure washer (which you'll need to cleanse your undercarriage of those unguents)? Of course you can:

Best of all, remounts are a breeze since there's no overshooting your inner thigh and landing right on your "pants yabbies" or "vaginae." Instead, you just run right up behind it and mount it like a mating dachshund:


Plus, would you put on a suit and ride your cyclocross bike to the opera? Of course not--but you can do it on the Dreamslide:

You can also use it to terrorize pedestrians:


Even the "fixie" crews will love the Dreamside, since it's great for blasting through intersections on video:

I predict that the next North American Handmade Bicycle Show will consist mostly of handmade artisanal Dreamslides, and that by Interbike 2012 all the manufacturers will have copied them and begun to offer at least one Dreamslide in their line-ups. Indeed, with the bicycle about to be completely revolutionized, it's a shame we don't have a revolutionary new road infrastructure to match--especially here in New York City, where you're fortunate to complete a ride without plummeting into a pothole and being eaten alive by Morlocs:

I have plied the thoroughfares of New York at the helm of all sorts of vehicles over the years--automobiles, bicycles, motorcycles, sedan chairs--and all of them (with the exception of the sedan chair) have at one time or another sustained some sort of damage due to the dire condition of the bombed airstrips which the city has the temerity to label with names or numbers and call "streets." In fact, I'd have switched exclusively to sedan chairs long ago if I didn't think that eventually one of my footmen would step into a pothole and wrench an ankle, and I saw on Fox news once that under "Obamacare" injured footmen must appear before some sort of "death panel" for euthanization. Not only do I not want that on my conscience, but I also don't want to go through the interminable hassle of hiring another footman on Craigslist.

Honestly, it's enough to drive me to move to Portland, where not only are the streets in far better repair, but there's even bicycle-themed temporary lodging:
Personally, I prefer staying in non-cycling-themed hotels because I take perverse pleasure in rolling my filthy bicycle through carpeted lobbies and into elevators where it tends to frighten and disgust tourists. However, the proprietor of this particular establishment has clearly realized that he can take advantage of the thousands of carpetbagging (does Chrome make carpetbags?) would-be framebuilders who arrive in Portland daily like starry-eyed Midwesterners coming to Hollywood in order to be in "the pictures:"

In addition to random guests that find him on the Web, Chris is also listed on UBI's website as a housing option for their bike school students (who get a discount on their stay).

He's also looking to take the logical next step and market his guest house to the people who come to Portland in order to be fawned upon and measured for their artisanal bicycles:

Chris says he is also looking to partner with local custom bike builders as a place for their customers to stay. "If you're getting a custom bike built, you should really come to Portland and take the time to get fit and meet the builder."

I wonder if he offers a flat five-year rate for the people on Sacha White's "epic" Vanilla waitlist.

Of course, no custom bicycle is complete without a "Stemie"--or, if you prefer, its organic rodent pelt equivalent, spotted by a reader in Woodstock, NY and submitted for "Cockie" consideration:

I guess you'd call that a "Squirrely:"

Though the revolutionary new design of the Dreamslide will sadly render dead squirrel stem pads obsolete.