Friday, January 6, 2017

The First BSNYC Friday Fun Quiz of 2017...Is Not Today!

Having done my part to make America great again by facilitating a demonstrably inept person's continued operation of a motor vehicle in a potentially deadly fashion on our public roadways, I figured I'd reward myself by finishing off the work week with a ride on ol' Piney:

So pleased have I been with this bicycle that I've temporarily decommissioned my other geared all-terrain bicycle with knobbly tires, which, as you may recall, was ailing from a broken chain and cracked derailleur pulley wheel:

As a semi-professional bike blogger, author, cultural touchstone, and father of various human children requiring daily care and feeding (who knew?), I realized maintaining two redundant bicycles was a poor use of my limited recreational time.  Therefore, instead of repairing it I simply took it apart and consigned it to my storage cage.  I figure I'll build it back up again at such time as I need a project, or, much more likely, when my kid is big enough to ride it.

My usual mountain bicycling destination is the thrilling, untamed trail network behind the mall--sorry, "mixed-use lifestyle center"--about 8-ish miles north of my home:

This allows me to get a decent ride in without having to either disappear all day or resort to using a car.  Plus there's like a Whole Foods and stuff, and when my chain explodes I can walk to the REI.

However, over the holiday break I stumbled upon some new-to-me trails also within reasonable riding distance of my abode and I'd been meaning to check them out.  (I was on a road bike at the time so was only able to peer into the woods from the trailhead like a bargain shopper ogling the dresses at Bergdorf Goodman.)  These trails are more like twelve miles away from me, but with judicious route choice I can get there and back almost entirely on dirt.  This may not sound like a big deal to you, but I can assure you that by New York City standards being able to do a proper off-road ride right from your back door without having to deal with either car or pavement is positively decadent and a luxury akin to having a washer/dryer in your home--which is another thing that probably doesn't sound like a big deal to you, but such is life here in the Big Arple.  (Hey, we may have to leave our apartments to do laundry, but at least we don't have to drive to a fucking Walmart.)

Anyway, brimming with optimism, I pointed ol' Piney northward towards the new-to-me trails, and I was savoring the crunch of freshly-fallen snow beneath me three-inch tires when I was set upon by an ornery Canis familiaris by the name of Auggie:

I know the dog's name was Auggie because that's what its owner kept shouting at it as he implored it to stand down.  The dog, naturally, completely ignored him.  I've often marveled at suburban dog owners' complete inability to control their dogs.  (Though futile attempts to exert control seem to be the basis of suburban life.)  I've also noticed that in the city I can ride by pitbull after pitbull without eliciting so much as a bark, yet as soon as I enter the monied precincts of Westchester some designer dog wants to tear me apart.  To wit:

There was a time I might have dismissed a dog like Auggie's advances as mere playfulness.  Hey, maybe he just thought I was a sheep and was trying to herd me, right?  But that was before one of these fuckers bit me.  Indeed, I encountered the biter, the wheelsucker in the video above, and Auggie all within about a mile of each other.  Therefore, when Auggie chased me down and initiated a face-off I simply stopped riding and stood there.  After all, I didn't know Auggie from a glory hole in the wall, and as far as I knew messing with either one could be a good way to get my dick bitten off.

Eventually the suburbanite reached Auggie and took him in hand, so I continued on my way, and before long I came upon the fresh tracks of another rider:

My first reaction was one of panic.  "Are those tires fatter than mine?!?"  This, I realized, is how Freds with mechanical shifters must feel when they encounter riders with electronic transmissions.  But my insecurity soon gave way to curiosity, and I resolved to learn from the tracks.  After all, I was heading into slightly unfamiliar terrain, and the decisive lines of this rider indicated both competence and confidence.  And so I followed.

Here's the road I'd been riding on when I "found" the trails:

While this is a fairly dense suburb, if you squint you can pretend you're in the alps or something:

Well, I can, anyway.  My standards are low.  I usually ride behind a mall, remember?

The trails were beguiling, and soon the tracks reappeared:

I found this reassuring, figuring as long as I didn't see Sasquatch prints and a pool of blood I was probably safe.  I also found all the footbridges reassuring, because who doesn't like a wooden bridge?

Assholes, that's who.

Anyway, I scampered about until I satisfied myself that I'd found a delightful new round-trip mountain bike ride to add to my repertoire:

Then I headed southward again, stopping at the gluten-free bakery in "Hipsturbia," which was for once free of runaway cars.

May your weekend rides be similarly rewarding, and either free of or replete with gluten depending on your preference.


wishiwasmerckx said...

First, bitches!

Fourhourerection said...


Fourhourerection said...

Avoided the dogs, too!

Seattle lone wolf said...


Ted K. said...

197. Some people take the line that modern man has too much power, too much control over nature; they argue for a more passive attitude on the part of the human race. At best these people are expressing themselves unclearly, because they fail to distinguish between power for LARGE ORGANIZATIONS and power for INDIVIDUALS and SMALL GROUPS. It is a mistake to argue for powerlessness and passivity, because people NEED power. Modern man as a collective entity—that is, the industrial system—has immense power over nature, and we (FC) regard this as evil. But modern INDIVIDUALS and SMALL GROUPS OF INDIVIDUALS have far less power than primitive man ever did. Generally speaking, the vast power of “modern man” over nature is exercised not by individuals or small groups but by large organizations. To the extent that the average modern INDIVIDUAL can wield the power of technology, he is permitted to do so only within narrow limits and only under the supervision and control of the system. (You need a license for everything and with the license come rules and regulations.) The individual has only those technological powers with which the system chooses to provide him. His PERSONAL power over nature is slight.

N/A said...

That ride was damned-near epic! Life on the Husky Marin is quite the adventure.

Anonymous said...


Dane Watt said...

I'm a top

Anonymous said...

Top 10 ! (and I read it.) Sounds lovely. We expect rain Rain RAIN this weekend, even at 6000 ft.

leroy said...

Well that explains the text my dog got about some guy on a Marin who wouldn't answer a simple question about what pressure he was running.

Ride safe all!

And my dog asks that I also remind all to use your words.

He does.

Too often, if you ask me.

Dane Watt said...

I'm a top

Anonymous said...

New trails at last. New trails at last. Thank lob all mighty, new trails at last.

Joe said...

Snob, are those trails near Irvington by the Sawmill?

Lieutenant Oblivious said...

After yesterday's sweep, I'm on a recovery ride! Still sauntering in at 13?

Peter said...

The proper way to ride away from dogs is to go just fast enough to encourage them to keep going until they collapse and their owners have to retrieve them.

Cat 404 said...

Cool, Bikesknob has a Fly 6, i guess.

I've often wondered why they named the gizmo "Fly6" since no one wears them on their fly - they should be called something else.

Nice ROMA video of the pooch.

Lieutenant Oblivious said...

"After all, I didn't know Auggie from a glory hole in the wall, and as far as I knew messing with either one could be a good way to get my dick bitten off."

Gold, Snob, Pure Gold!

Bluezurich said...

Non Podia...non knobbly

Anonymous said...

yeah, it ain't the dogs

It's the fucking dog owners.

Bryan said...

oh man, retiring the suspension geared bike. I just got a "new" mtb myself...1995 Stumpjumper M2 FS. I'm quite happy with it, although now every time I make fun of specialized I'm inadvertently making fun of myself as well.
Stay warm!

Some guy from upstate said...

Auggie doggy? Really? "That's my boy!"

Jon Webb said...

I kept expecting you would go round and round until you realized you were following yourself.

Anonymous said...

you should try rubbing them 29" wheels in the chubby bike

Spokey said...

at least back to sub-30

i notice teddyk can't even podi these days. what has this thing come to?

my rule is if the ground is white, keep indoors bundled tight.

cdinvb said...

Be nice to have a place around here. Florida. To ride outside the sound of highways. Jeez.

bad boy of the north said...

You might have to start wearing a cod piece on your epic biekcycle adventures.pissing off dogs and deer would not lead to a good ending.#whatcodpieceareyourunning

Eddy Murks said...

Jaysus,stick a fork in this blog.It,s well done.

bad boy of the north said...

Perhaps it might be called a lob piece.because you may want to ask lob to protect you...Just sayin'

Victor Kaminski said...

vsk said...

The scenery is gorgeous!

After the Fly6 now you have to get a DJI Mavic foldable drone which will follow you... which you could dive at the dog.

I've read some folks keep a tennis ball handy to throw at a pooch to distract it.


Just tryna help said...

You need to rub your Scranus with Tink's 69 for your wildlife trail adventures Buy the ticket, take the ride.

Anonymous said...

Do wooden bieky bridges ice-over the same as road-going vehicular bridges?

If so, drop tire pressure 4psi, max height on electronic dropper seatpost, and turn on full lube on the AutoLube9000.

JB said...

I've found that one should never rely on any friction on a wooden bridge. Ice, leaves, water, moss, dew, algae - all things that also like wooden bridges.

Comment deleted said...

Still cranking out the (chamois) buttery-goodness after all these years, RTMS. This is one of your better asides:

"Though futile attempts to exert control seem to be the basis of suburban life."

Happy New Year, and thanks for the good writing.

Anonymous said...

Old style tyre pump weighted with lead should deal with stupid untrained dogs AND their owners! Just do not blog about it and we will not tell...


leroy said...

Dear Mr. Anon 5:09 PM --

My dog informs me that your comment demonstrates a provincial naivete concerning the salubrious alternative of offering theater tickets.

Now, I ain't saying he's right. And I ain't saying he's wrong.

I'm just like saying there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy is like all I'm saying.

Spokey said...

i keep a topeak mountain morph pump on whatever my main biek is. no lead weights, but it has a quick release clip instead of the current stupid topeak velcro attachment. an odd version that they must have quickly abandoned as too useful. has the aforementioned quick release for quick dog wacking, is the short (not mini though) length, and has the integrated pressure gauge and little foot peg.

either that or a squirt from the water bottle has always worked for me.

Enrique said...

"... and Mexico will pay for it. Mark my words."
"... and Mexico will pay for it. Mark my words."
"... and Mexico will pay for it. Mark my words."
"... and Mexico will pay for it. Mark my words."
"... and Mexico will pay for it. Mark my words."

biorider said...

Great way to end the week, Mr. Snob/RTMS/WCRM - new trails, no dog bite.
Happy 2017!

babble on said...

I used to think I was glutarded, but thank goodness, it just isn't so. Coffee and chocolate are bad enough.

Um, please do remember, oh feral pussycat of the backwood trails, that assholes are actually useful, even if they do let out a big stink every so often. What would you do without yours, hmmm? People who don't like wooden bridges are just... just... Oh shit. Can't call em cunts, cause those are awesome, and you can't call em cocksuckers either, cause who doesn't love a good cocksucking?

OMG this is terrible! We're running short of potent insults!! You could call em a fooking banker. YEAH, that's it. Bankers are pretty slimy. They might even be the root of all evil, only who doesn't like money? Nah, that won't work. Too many people wouldn't know they were the target of a burn. Oh! Call him a politician! By extension, Drumpf becomes the ultimate inslut. And except for the 60 million brainwashed Americans who ticked that particular box on the ballot, everyone else on planet Earth will immediately understand your intent.

Anonymous said...

babble on - Thank the good lob they weren't brainwashed enough to believe Clinton was their saviour. Our children would really have been fucked then. All hail the EC! If the popular vote was applied to baseball, the world series would be decided on which team scored the most runs, instead of games won.

dancesonpedals said...

Let's just call him a big orange shit stain.

Andres in Miami said...

Lanterne rouge!

bieks said...

It feels like you wrote this for all the readers too lazy to click the links to your Brooks blog. Thanks for saving us the click.

Damn it, even being first born doesn't exempt you from hand-me-downs in the Weiss family. Mind you, rather have an old On One than a new BSO.

babble on said...

Heh, Yes. Let's. :)

Um, and for the record? AYH LMPC.

Good way to avod losing your most creative appendage, snobberdiddums. Your future children thank you. I ttrust you've taught the present brood to follow in yer footsteps and stop, stand and face a predator, in the biggest, loudest possible way?

The summer before last, when my 13 year old son was 12 and barely 5'4, instead of 13 and the 6' (?!!!) he is today, he earned himself a certificate of merit when he stood up to an agressive dog which had already bitten a grown man and was going after his friend. He got between the dog and his friend and held his longboard above his head, shouting at the top of his lungs. His friend's dad, who was recovering from said dogbite witnessed the scene and felt that my son had saved his son's life.

My boys are proof positive that our children come through us, and not from us. His big brother just signed a software development contract with the FacingBook, and will be down in CA shortly. I'm a proud mum, fully aware that they are greater than the sum of their par(en)ts.

ubercurmudgeon said...

Did the suburbanite canid owner apologize when s/he eventually managed to get control of their dog? I find only about one in five ever do. They own it, they feed it, they enjoy its pack animal loyalty, but the moment it becomes an annoyance or threat to others it returns to become a wild animal that it is utterly unreasonable for anyone to hold them accountable for. Proper training is, after all, time consuming and/or expensive, so fuck it.

Drock said...

Attempts to exert control in the burbs

dop said...


dop said...

5'4">>>6' ???

AS the young ladies at his school say, if you rub him he gets bigger..

babble on said...

dop - Ha! Forget the girls at his high school: I was delighted to hear that my second child of the internet age found his first girlfriend online, on Instagram, of all things. She's an American, living in Michigan. She's cute as a button and I'm thrilled that there's not a chance he's about to get her pregnant.

babble on said...

I have the memory of a goldfish, but I was sure I'd penned a little ditty on the pink canoe waaaaay back when. And last time I checked, if you search 'Lick My Pink Canoe,' the Great Google brings up BSNYC's post from the very day you Americans gave Obama his second mandate. Remember him? He's the president who brought your unemployment claims down to their lowest numbers in 48 years, paid down Bush's enormous and extravagent debt, and made sure every American had access to health care. 'Had' being the operative word.

Oh, here we go again. I can feel All You Haters arming yourselves with biting venom and stinging sarcasm. You're getting ready to blast me a new one, aren't you? Heh. Have at 'er. But when you're really feeling the rage, remember: I'm safely across the boarder, laughing and singing a happy song. Why? Simple. We have a sane leader at the helm, instead of some nasty old narcissistic sociopath intent on lining his pockets with the proceeds of the presidency. Heh. Yep. Have fun with that.


dancesonpedals said...

Long distance relationships can he stressful. Hoeever,love can triumph, with help from a turkey Baster and overnight delivery services. (When it absolutely, positively has to be there.

Other than that, I got nothin...just bunch of jokes about sperm banking that I can't work out..only the punch lines....(sign him up for direct deposit/penalty for early withdrawal)

Lieutenant Oblivious said...

Don't write checks your Scranus can't cash!

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Vladimir said...

babble, you speak truth to morons. Self-loathing morons who live in a Fox News bubble. Self-loathing morons who were easy marks for a slick real estate salesman/ con artist. They'll never change. But they'll die painfully, if that's any consolation.

Agent Orange said...

Oh, all you naysayers. Just you wait an see. Donald Trump is going to turn this world on it's ear and all will marvel at the once again great America

harummph said...

Agent Orange,

dr.abalaka can help us MAGA.

How's that wall going for Donald? The one that Mexico, oh no wait,American taxpayers will fund. Oh, that's right, and it isn't a wall any more. No... The clown isn't even in office and already writing checks you are going to pay.

dr.abalaka help MAGA!!

McFly said...

I'll tell ya who loves a wooden I traversed one just yesterday and was scared shitless due to BRIDGES FREEZE BEFORE TRAILWAY.

N/A said...

There's a wooden bridge on the path that gets most of my miles. It's pretty well-built, overall, but the decking has aged poorly so: A)if you don't stand when riding across, you'll knock your scranus out of alignment and B)it stays in a fairly constant state of moistness, meaning pretty sketchy crossings in freezing temps.

babble on said...

My boy longboards as his action of defiance in our household, rain or shine, and on his boards he puts some gnarly sick grip tape that makes sandpaper seem like silk. Methinks every wooden bridge should sport some.

JLRB said...

Whew - Good thing there was no quiz, since I slept through it.

As far as unleashed dogs go, here is one gigantic asshole's solution to unruly dogs

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