It's all coming together, though it's missing a few pieces.

Further to yesterday's post, you WILL be relieved to learn I put my rear hub back together yesterday:

It is still short one (1) bearing, but I rode around the neighborhood in flip-flops for five minutes and the hub seems perfectly fine.  And since a flip-flop shakedown ride is exactly the same thing in terms of rear hub stress as picking your way up a steep, rocky ascent in your lowest gear , I'm confident that the bearing shortage won't be an issue.

Plus, more importantly, the bike is now .443 grams lighter thanks to the missing bearing, and this weight savings is going to translate directly into PERFORMANCE!  (Remember that one?)

Either that, or into crushing my "pants yabbies" on my top tube when the rear hub gives up, I suppose all this remains to be seen.

Of course I could just buy a replacement bearing cage for the price of like one (1) beer, but I've already spent so much effort linking to it I'm not sure I can go the extra millimeter and place the order.

And I'd rather have the beer.

By the way, looking at my bike as pictured above, I've realized two things:

1) It's very dirty;

2) It's totally obsolete.

In fact, it's more than obsolete--it's downright primitive by bicycle industry standards.  Just look at this list of outdated features:

--Non-single-ring-specific single-ring drivetrain;
--Non-inverted suspension fork;
--Non-dropper seatpost;
--Non-thru axle quick release hubs;
--9(!)-speed;

And, worst of all...INNER TUBES!!!

According to the bicycle industry it should not be possible to ride this thing.

Speaking of heedlessness, sometimes when a cyclist hits a pedestrian the pedestrian wins:

"He dodged a car and then just kept riding in the bike lane but going the wrong way," Salim said. "He was going the wrong way. No helmet, no nothing."

I resent the implication that the rider's helme(n)tlessness somehow enhances the wrongitude of his salmoning.  So what, if he had been wearing a helme(n)t then it would have been okay?

Furthermore, Salim owns a business called "Salim Smoke Shop," and it seems to me that someone who MAKES A LIVING SELLING THE LEADING PREVENTABLE CAUSE OF DEATH IN THE UNITED STATES doesn't get to criticize someone for not wearing a helme(n)t.

Then again, the rider did crack his head open, so I suppose I have to allow it:

"The UPS guy walked out and was looking the other way and the bike hit him," he said. "The bicyclist flipped over a couple of times. His head cracked open."

The biker, who was in his 40s, was taken to Kings County Hospital, police said.

The pedestrian refused medical attention at the scene.

Oy.

And that's why you shouldn't salmon.

As for the helme(n)t, I doubt this would have turned out very well for him no matter what he was wearing on his head--though some sort of spring might have bounced him back onto his feet again.

By the way, check out the police taking bike porn shots of that beefy bottom bracket:

Yep, there it is, your answer to the riddle "How many cops does it take to photograph a bike?".  (One to operate the camera, one to take notes, and one to sleep while standing up.)  So it turns out the NYPD can collect evidence at a crash scene--but only in the event that it was cause by a cyclist.  I'm sure they're figuring out how many charges they can pile on the salmoner while his skull bones knit together.  Meanwhile, when you drive your car into a Dunkin' Donuts they swaddle you in a blanket, buy you a salted caramel hot chocolate, and give you a gift certificate for a free car wash.

Indeed, cars and Dunkin' Donuts go together like coffee and...well, donuts:

They really need to change the slogan from "America Runs On Dunkin'" to "America Runs Into Dunkin'."

And if you're reading this north of the border, please allow me to translate this into Canadian for you:

We may eat different types of bacon, and you guys may talk a little funny (I don't mean the accents, I mean the politeness), but underneath it all we're basically the same--by which I mean none of us can drive for shit.

Alas, one wonders if things may have turned out better for the unfortunate salmoner if only he'd had access to life-saving headphones that tell you what to do while you ride:

You've got to appreciate a Kickstarter that involves nothing more than a sketch on graph paper accompanied by a paragraph that tells you all the cool stuff it's gonna do:

Well my design process is taking a while but I plan on having headphones with a mask that lays on top of your head, and comes down when you're in high winds (such as a person on a bike) or when a manual button is pushed,speaks to you letting you know that something is behind with the use of a night vision camera and possibly give you voical directions, has Bluetooth and wired connection to moble devices and Lots of other features. So I would like to get this out there if possible. I really would like to get the funding soonso I can get started right away on the prototype.

The breathless prose evokes Ralphie's theme in "A Christmas Story:"

What I want for Christmas is a Red Ryder BB gun with a compass in the stock and this thing which tells time.  I think that everybody should have a Red Ryder bb gun.  They're very good for Christmas.  I don't think a football is a very good Christmas present.

Neither do I.

If "Christmas Story" took place today Ralphie would have launched a Kickstarter for that BB gun and the movie would have been over in five minutes.

Penultimately, Look has a new super-expensive Fredcycle, and they appear to be aiming it straight at the Specialized Venge-Schmenge:

The 795 is not cheap, by anyone's standards. The 795 Aerolight with Shimano Ultegra Di2 and Mavic CXR 60s we have in for test goes for US$13,499 / £7,999. It weighs 7.47kg / 16.47lb in size Large.

Indeed, now that it's almost impossible to build a heavy road bike low weight is no longer a selling point, so clearly the bike companies have turned their attention to giving Fred a boner over aerodynamics.  Just check out this eerily streamlined and featureless cockpit, which looks like the genital area of a Ken doll:

It's as flat as Levi Leipheimer's personality, but the same can't be said about the front of Fred's shorts when he beholds this wind-cheating douche chariot.

And lastly, two (2) very different people who have helped me with my BRA (that's "Book-Related Appearance" of course) in the past have asked me to share with you two very different events.

So here goes.

Firstly, Esteemed Commenter Daddo One has a friend who is raising money for cancer research as part of the Pan-Mass Challenge:

It's a sad story and if I attempt to recount it here I'll cry, but the upshot is that if you give $25 you get a raffle ticket for a Parlee:

Here are the details:

-Tickets are $25 ea. Purchase as many tickets as you like! There is a very modest reserve to cover some of the bike costs. Though I fully expect the reserve to be met, if it is not, all funds will be promptly returned to the participants.

-To purchase tickets, the preferred method is to send a check made out to Branfman/Team Kermit to my address; 43 Chinian Path, Newton, MA 02459. Include your full contact information including email, snail mail, and phone. You may also purchase tickets by making an online donation to Team Kermit: http://www2.pmc.org/profile/TT0079 Include a note with your donation saying "Parlee Fundraiser"  to be sure that we see it as such. All ticket purchases will be acknowledged within 24 hours.

-Ticket purchases will be accepted until Monday August 3, 6PM Eastern time.

-The winning ticket will be chosen that evening at our Team Kermit Post PMC cookout and will be announced to the public via email the next day. The winner will be contacted by email and phone.

-The process of frame size selection, custom fit, bicycle build, and final delivery will then be arranged. There are also options for upgrades in componentry which would be the responsibility of the winner.

A Parlee, by the way, is a type of bicycle that is much prized for its Fred-tasticness.

Secondly, this guy, who was my fixer when I went to Cleveland, wants you to buy a ticket to a screening of "Heroes of Dirt:"

You don't win a Parlee and it doesn't do shit for cancer research as far as I can tell, but apparently you get to see this movie, which I assume will be shown in a spirit of drunken irony--and what else are you going to do in Cleveland anyway?

Clearly the filmmakers left no cliché unturned.

Now I'm going to go turn all that bearing money savings into beer.