Load-Bearing: Smugness, Ambiguity, and Indifference

(Seasonal Greetingsways, via Esteemed Commenter DaddoOne)

I tend to figure things out late. For example, it wasn't until recently that I discovered putting your shoes on after your pants is not only much easier, but also prevents you from tracking mud into your crotch. Similarly, I was also very late to the cargo bike party (or, more accurately, cargo bike smugness self-gratification circle), dismissing such bicycles as too impractical for my environment until I took delivery of a Surly Big Dummy and fell in love with its capacity to carry lots of stuff while handling mostly like a "normal" bicycle, with plenty of room left over to haul my increasingly bloated sense of self-importance. I look forward to growing old with the Big Dummy, like this couple who are clearly enjoying the joy and intimacy of meat shopping well into their golden years:

(When was the last time you had a tender, juicy steak?)

Few things are more beautiful than a relationship based on trust, understanding, and mutual meat appreciation. We should all be so lucky, and may their love outlast their arteries.

In any case, as you probably know the Big Dummy uses the Xtracycle system, with which you could even transform your Ikea bike into your dream meat-hauler. Consequently, between Surly and Xtracycle I seem to have been abducted by a smugness cabal, and I've just learned from the latter that they're having a contest to find the best story about "dumping their fully loaded Xtracycle:"

I had previously thought that contests for stories about dumping your load were the exclusive domain of pornographic magazines, but as I said I'm usually late to pick up on things. (I'd also think having a contest that basically hinges on customers talking about how your product failed them would be bad for business, but I guess Xtracycle are confident that they have cornered the smugness market.) Anyway, you can vote for your favorite Xtracycle mishap until December 15th, and the finalists are some kind of potato salad disaster (which sounds like a Dead Kennedys album):

"I turn around just in time to see the kickstand bury into the grass and a shitload of potato salad go EVERYWHERE."

And this Monty Python-esque episode:

"I strategically crashed into a neighbors shrub..."

I'm sure this method of stopping will inspire hill-bombing brakeless fixed-gear cyclists everywhere, and strategic shrub crashing will become the new skidding.

Speaking of Surly products and load dropping, Slappy recently sent me this photo of a Pugsley rider dragging a Christmas tree and/or Hanukkah bush:

Which he appears to have felled with an artisanal axe:

If the "Americana backwoods revival" continues at this rate, hipster director Michel Gondry is going to start making urban Paul Bunyan films starring Zach Galifianakis.

One thing's for certain, though: heavy bikes are the new light bikes, and via the good people (or at least not demonstrably bad people) at Just Coffee comes this study which will doubtless shake the world of "Cat 6 racing" to its very core:

In it, a rider makes the groundbreaking discovery that expensive lightweight bikes are not faster than less expensive heavier bikes when it comes to commuting--and because he's a doctor you know it's true:

Dr Jeremy Groves, a consultant anaesthetist at Chesterfield Royal Hospital and self-confessed cycling fan, discovered that, "spending a lot of money on a bicycle for commuting is not necessarily going to get you to work more quickly".

Upon hearing the news, the world's fastest "Cat 6" racer promptly traded his Kalavinka for an Ikea bike:

As for the doctor, apparently his crabon bicycle was not giving him any extra time in bed:

Dr Groves declares himself "disappointed" to find out that his financial investment was giving him no extra time in bed and no less time on the road.

This would come as news to Mario Cipollini, who knows that nothing attracts sex partners like a bicycle made from crabon fribé, which is why he launched his own brand:



You should always shower after riding, but if the bike's a Cipollini I'd also recommend a shot of penicillin.

Of course, as I mentioned on Friday, unsurprisingly Cipollini is very upset that cycling is no longer "macho" enough:


In particular, he's very worried that cyclists will soon have ambiguous genitalia:

“I read an interview with Umberto Veronesi, a scientist, a reputed oncologist and Minister for Health,” Cipollini continued. “In five hundred years or more, human beings might have both sets of genitalia, male and female. I don’t want this evolution to have started already in cycling…”

In fact, to make sure this doesn't happen the UCI has already appointed Cipollini as the pro peloton's first-ever official genital inspector, and here he is demonstrating his crotchal examination technique:

(Cipollini opening the labial drapes.)

I'm not sure why Cipollini is so afraid of the intersexed, and usually that sort of attitude is the result of fearing something inside yourself--so it could be that as he approaches middle age he is growing an auxiliary vagina, which would mean that "Little Mario" is being joined by a "Little Maria." I also wonder about this Dr. Umberto Veronesi whom Cipollini cites, and what other crackpot theories he may have. It wouldn't surprise me in the least to learn that Dr. Veronesi is Cipo's Svengali and has made him believe all sorts of crazy things. Other misapprehensions under which Cipo probably labors include:

Masturbation makes you go blind--unless you use your non-dominant hand, in which case it gives you superpowers;

You can't catch an STD if you consume a pint of olive oil immediately after sex;

Suntanning prevents skin cancer.

This would go a long way towards explaining much of Cipollini's behavior.

Or it could just be that he's Italian.

Speaking of Italians, they are noted for being suave. In fact, as Campione Cycles informs me, they're so suave that Italian component manufacturer Campagnolo actually recommends installing their parts "indifferently:"

Evidently, stuff like "care" and "attention to detail" is for the sorts of nerds who ride Shimano. Campagnolo is for the insouciant.