Beyond Category: Shock the Monkeys

As I mentioned yesterday, after reading a rave review of the Bianchi Super-Oltre Über-Record Road Bicycle Cycling Machine, I decided I had to have one. Well, I'm pleased to announce I've already taken delivery of my new "steede." Made of special high-modulous or huge-mongulous or whatever-you-call-it-ulous crabon fribé, it is the best cycling bicycle that has ever been made on this or any other planet ever. Here is a picture of it in my living room:

Here's a picture of it in front of the cafe where all the roadies hang out:

And here's a picture of it on top of the hardest climb I've ever done, propped up against a sign that says: "ELEV. 296 FT."

Obviously, the first thing you notice about this cycling bike is that it boasts cutting-edge technology and innovation. Just take a look at this branding:

See, what Bianchi have done here is completely re-engineer the head tube badge and transfer it to the underside of the downtube. This enlarged badge results in branding that is up to 250% more laterally obvious and over 300% more vertically apparent, as measured by the German magazine "Marke Hure." ("Marke Hure" has the most accurate testing methods in the cycling industry, and they test logo effectiveness on highly-calibrated monkeys with disposable income--the closest thing to actual roadies occurring in nature.) While this downtube-mounted oversized headtube badge may not increase actual performance, it will give you a much-needed morale boost as you are passed on sub-300 foot climbs by riders on less expensive bicycles.

But the innovations aren't just skin deep--they even go as far as the copy on the Bianchi website:

A result achieved thanks to the carbon frame fabricated through the innovative X-Tex technology, that increases rigidity while limiting the weight. To push your limit far beyond.

If you're wondering what "X-Tex" is, I consulted a popular search engine and can report to you that it's apparently "Great for use in oil / water separators, stormwater and wastewater filtration systems and water 'polishing' applications." Naturally, these superior filtration qualities also make it ideal for building bicycles. Plus, the highly-calibrated monkeys with disposable income at "Marke Hure" say that "X-Tex" is over 300% more delicious than "Tex-Mex."

At this point you're probably thinking: "Holy crap, did the engineering geniuses at Bianchi come up with all of this themselves?" Of course not. Like all ridiculously expensive bicycle cycles, this was a "collabo:"

In collaboration with specialized companies, Bianchi simulated a structural analysis on carbon products aimed at obtaining, during the design phase, the elements necessary for the correct development of its products.

In other words, it probably came out of the same Taiwanese factory as every other crabon bicycle--though I'm sure the downtube-mounted oversized headtube badge was all Bianchi.

None of this is to say there's anything wrong with Taiwanese bicycles, it's just that $11,000 seems a bit much for some quasi-Italian flair regardless of how "super" the Record is. With that kind of scratch, you could pay eccentric steel-sniffer Dario Pegoretti to make you a frame and experience what it's like to be shouted at and belittled by a true artisan. Of course, buying a custom bike comes with its own set of problems, not least of which is finding appropriately artisanal baubles to bolt onto your artisanal frame, but fortunately one reader tells me you can get a $150 bottle cage that is like a "Samurai sword:"

Yes, it's exactly like a Samurai sword except it's way smaller, isn't sharp, and holds bottles for Freds instead of killing people. I suppose anything hand-crafted in Japan has to be likened to a Samurai sword in the same way that anything made in Italy has to reference "passion," but since this is essentially just a utensil I'd argue it's less like a Samurai sword and more like an overpriced chopstick.

Meanwhile, also further to yesterday's post, a commenter asked:

Anonymous said...

care to comment on the absurdity of limiting bikes to 10mph on the Golden Gate bridge for "safety"?

And then linked to the following article:

(Safety-minded Fred has left the reflectors on his Litespeed.)

If you're unfamiliar with the Golden Gate Bridge, it is a bridge that links the city of San Francisco and the profoundly smug county of Marin, and it also happens to remind me of a Samurai sword, albeit a really big one that spans a large body of water. Anyway, I heard about this proposal during my leave of absence last week, and I would agree that a 10mph speed limit is absurd. However, having ridden over the Golden Gate Bridge a number of times, I would also say that it's like someone took all the most annoying elements of the Brooklyn, Manhattan, Williamsburg, and George Washington Bridges and forced them onto a single path. Freds, tourists, wobbly triathletes... You haven't experienced fear until you've been approached head-on by an oblivious tourist on a rental bike, weaving as he simultaneously smokes a cigarette and attempts to take a photograph of one of the towers, while you brace yourself for a collision that could send you hurtling into the icy waters below. Apparently, though, the owner of the rental bike company resents this indictment of his customers:

Jeff Sears, owner of Blazing Saddles, a bike rental company whose advertising urges visitors to "Bike the Bridge," said it's wrong to demonize a class of bike riders or imply that they shouldn't be allowed access to the span.

"It's not fair to label one group as needing to meet some sort of safety standard of bicycle knowledge to be able to bike across the bridge."

What? How is that not fair? Sure, they shouldn't ban tourists on rental bikes, but I think it's perfectly fine to "demonize" them. Saying it's not fair that they should ride safely is like saying, "It's not fair to need some sort of special knowledge to prepare and serve the potentially deadly Fugu fish." Perhaps Jeff Sears should also open up a bunch of amateur Fugu stands along the span, staffed by idiots with Samurai swords. If the tourists don't kill you, the snack foods will.

But of course the real victims here are riders of tallbikes and unicycles--which, as Cyclelicious reports, could be banned altogether:

Besides the 5 MPH and 10 MPH speed limits, Alta recommends a ban on tallbikes and unicycles because they might tip over the bridge safety railings and fall into the Golden Gate...

That would be a crushing blow to the many thousands of people in Mill Valley who commute into San Francisco every day by unicycle and tallbike. Personally, I think we can reach a compromise, which would go something like this: You're allowed to ride a unicycle or similar circus contraption over the Golden Gate Bridge, just as long as you refrain from juggling while on the span.

But if there's one thing we need less than more tourists on rental bikes, it's more fixed-gear videos--though I do make an exception for filmmakers who push the boundaries of the artform, as in this short film that was forwarded to me by a reader:

FIXED from Tim Whitney on Vimeo.

As you can see, it's sort of a "conceptual meta-edit," and it stars a guy with a pompadour:


Who is being pursued by hipsters with nunchucks:


One of whom has a set of knuckle tattoos which may or may not say "Walk Hard:"

Decidely more traditional and pedestrian is this entry, which I saw on the Trackosaurusrex blog:

Official FIXATION Trailer from Alex Trudeau Viriato on Vimeo.

It touches all the bases, including the crucial explanation of why riding a fixed-gear is a metaphysical experience:

"The bike is aaalways moving. Like, you are the bicycle when you're on a track bike. You're part of it. Your legs are what defines what's happening with the bicycle."

If the bike is aaalways moving, how does he explain the incessant trackstanding? And maybe he's the bicycle when he's on a track bike, but some of us manage to ride our bicycles while simultaneously retaining some sense of individuality and autonomous thought.

There's also the person who answers his own rhetorical question:

Q: "What's it like to be fixed gear, clipped in, riding through traffic in LA?"

A: "I gotta say it's a complete rush."

I will admit that he had me rethinking at least one "fixie" stereotype. Previously I had thought all urban fixed-gear riders were studiously scruffy Bard graduates, but this one looks like he should be playing football for Princeton circa 1932.

Yes, of all the fixed-gear videos I've seen, none of them captures that perfect combination of self-importance and mallification quite like the ones from Los Angeles do. You might remember the film "To Live & Ride in L.A.," and I'm pleased to report that the makers have actually sent me an honest-to-Lobness "press release:"

To Live & Ride in L.A. has been widely received as the freshest movie on fixed-gear culture since Rowe's Fast Friday. Shot entirely on the streets of L.A. To Live & Ride in L.A. has been called an "authentic look into the what, where, and now of aggressive urban biking" by URB Magazine. The film was chosen as official selections at both the 2010 Hawaii International Film Festival and the 2010 Los Angeles Bicycle Film Festival and has toured the world on a screening circuit that included stops in Melbourne, Shanghai, Taipei, Las Vegas, Honolulu, Perth and Adelaide, Australia.

Frankly, I'm not impressed by anything that claims to be the "freshest movie on fixed-gear culture" since the last supposedly "fresh" movie on "fixed-gear culture." That's like saying "Ernest Goes to Jail" was the freshest inept-hillbilly-goes-someplace movie since "Ernest Goes to Camp." Still, that's not stopping them from releasing "exclusive content" like this:

In this particular video, the rider does a footplant and gets like four inches of air:

Now that's what I call "fresh."

By the way, this is the same rider who said "riding an aluminum track bike is more like doing tricks and producing a square feel or something like that and then the steel one would draw a circle."

Between his circles and Pegoretti's smells I'm starting to think these people must drinking LSD-tainted water from their Hattori Hanzo bottle cages.