Wednesdayplay noun Wednes·day \ˈwenz-(ˌ)dā, -dē; British also ˈwe-dənz-\

Last week I received an email with the following subject line:

Bike Helmet Breakthrough

And under it were the following words:

Dear Bike Snob,

Imagine staying connected while cycling - without ear buds or wires. This is the safest way to enjoy music or access to your smart phone.
Coros is about to debut its new smart technology helmet - one of the biggest technology advances in cycling. We would love for you to try it out!
The Coros LINX Smart Cycling Helmet connects bikers wirelessly and hands-, ears- and eyes-free to their music, friends, bike mates, voice navigation and ride data. This allows riders to safely get out to enjoy a ride, while also utilizing their smartphone capabilities without the distraction of wires.
Happy to provide advance information to you. The helmet samples we're sending out are the final, consumer model. Would you like me to send one to you? If so, what is your helmet size and shipping address?

Helmets?  Smart technology???  As you can imagine, I immediately responded in the affirmative, and yesterday this arrived by drone at my palatial abode:

I'm pleased to report I've already taken it out for a ride this morning, and you can expect a debriefing tomorrow:

(Spoiler alert: it matches my bike.)

Speaking of helmets, remember the pro-skater-turned-helmet-advocate I mentioned Monday?  Well here's a video forwarded to me by a reader in which he fights four (4) guys at once:



So remember kids: lash out violently if someone calls your heterosexuality into question, but make sure to always wear a helmet when you're riding on the wooden board with wheels.

It's the American way.

As for me, I'm too classy to engage in the fisticuffs.  (And by "classy" I mean cowardly.)  Plus, my looks are my livelihood, and were someone to rearrange my face it could put and end to my media career:

("They say you shouldn't wear underpants with cycling shorts.  I disagree.")

Then again, it's possible the rearrangement could help were it to serendipitously reorder my features into those of Fabio, who knows?

(An uppercut to the jaw could give me a nice butt-chin and a lucrative butter substitute spokesperson contract if the assailant is wearing his class ring.)

The point is I'm classy (sleeveless jersey notwithstanding, and I ain't apologizing for it, either, it was hot as balls), which is why I'm slowly adding EH Works tool rolls to my bikes:

See, first I put one on my travel bike, and it classed it up so much you almost don't notice the mighty tower of headset spacers:

Just kidding, of course you do.  Nothing could distract you from that monstrosity.

Then the other day I was looking at my Milwaukee:

And that old-man-in-the-steamroom saddlebag started to bother my aesthetic sensibilities, which is something I only discovered I had until recently, gargantuan spacer stack and sleeveless jersey notwithstanding.  (Such is the danger of flirting with the world of artisanal handicrafts.)  And so emails were sent, passive voice was used, and then this arrived at my palatial abode by hooded hawk, wrapped in brown paper like a fancy cut of meat:

I realize it's not gift guide season yet but if you're shopping for that special cyclist in your life I can assure you this is the way to go.  In fact, as I unwrapped it, I got angry that nobody has ever gifted me one of these before.  (Well, besides Erica Hanson herself, who handed me the first one in Seattle.)  Instead, it's always that can of Simoniz:

I mean sure, nothing brings out your bike frame's luster like Simoniz, but still.

Alas, there was no mention of tool rolls in the New York Times's recent gear rundown on the eve of the New York City Triathlon:

Though there was the obligatory comparison between the price of the bikes and the price of a random car:

In the swim portion of the swim-bike-run competition, there are goggles and wet suits. In the run, there are sneakers. The middle event, though, is the real showstopper: aerodynamic slivers of carbon fiber on wheels, costing upward of $15,000 — or more than a new Nissan Versa. Huffys with banana seats and baskets on the front are not welcome.

Why is the Nissan Versa suddenly the metric for bicycle prices?  Firstly, there are plenty of cars that would make that bike seem cheap.  Secondly, what is the point of arbitrarily comparing the price of sporting goods to the price of something people in khakis use to get to and from their cubicles?  They have nothing in common apart from rolling on wheels.  It's not like anybody's thinking, "Hmmm, I need a form of transportation.  Should I get the state-of-the-art tridork bike, or the soul-crushing econo-box?  Well, the Versa's cheaper, so I'll get that."  It's like comparing the price of custom ice skates to the price of Payless loafers.

Then again, if you substitute the word "water" with "coffee" and the word "racing" with "riding to work," this description of the bike does make it seem like the ideal commuter:

“So when I’m doing a race, I can actually just stay in my aero position, use this hose or little straw that pulls out, and I can drink water while I’m racing in the aero position without having to sit up, pull the water bottle out, drink from it, close the water bottle, put it back in and then come back down into the aerodynamic position that we’re usually using when we’re racing,” Szekretar said.

Wow, he makes it sound so easy!  Maybe all this guy needed was a more expensive bike:



But of course the real reason to own an expensive triathlon bike is the feeling that your machine is so exotic that it confounds mere mortals (though that does require more car comparisons, the only metric Americans understand):

“This is the equivalent of a Ferrari or a Maserati,” Blyer said. “So you can’t go into your local bike shop, in some cases you can, but a lot of the times if you walk into a bike shop that deals with kids’ bikes or commuting bikes with something like this, they’re going to scratch their head and say sorry.”

Yeah, I don't know about that.  It's still just a bike.  Anybody can adjust it--it doesn't even have disc brakes!  They're probably blowing you off because they don't feel like rummaging around for the meter-long valve extender you need to put air in your tires.

And yes, inflating the tires is the most challenging aspect of owning a triathlon bike, as I found out firsthand:

I may have to do a handmade artisanal bento box "collabo" with EH Works.