Old Whine, New Bottle: Embracing Mediocrity

Recently I was thumbing through a cycling magazine during my morning visit to that last bastion of print media when I happened upon the following ad:

"Introducing the racing bottle for the 21st century. The revolutionary Podium(tm) Bottle combines the innovative self-sealing Jet Valve and a high flow rate in a squeezable bike bottle. With the Podium, drinking is effortless; no more "bite to open, hip-slap to shut." The Podium's proprietary TruTaste(tm) material eliminates plastic aftertaste. And embedded anti-microbial technology ensures your bottle will stay clean and fresh. Own a bottle as advanced as the rest of your gear."

I'm a huge fan of both the raise-your-hopes-quickly-then-dash-them approach (as in: "You're pretty smart--for a complete idiot;" or "You're a pretty good bike handler--for a triathlete") as well as the advertisement that insults you and the products you're currently using. I'm also all too aware of the shortcomings of my current bottles. Indeed, the "bite to open, hip-slap to shut" approach has taken its toll on my weary carcass over the years--my incisors now protrude from my mouth like a rodent's and my hip is so brusied and pockmarked that I can barely walk. Yet before I saw this advertisement it had never occurred to me that there might be an alternative. "That's just the way it is," I'd think to myself resignedly as I flossed my unsightly beaver teeth and thumbed through medical supply catalogs looking for artificial hips. (Sure, I could wear a hydration pack, but ever since my tragic beer-funneling incident I've had a terrible fear of drinking from tubes.) So needless to say I was thrilled to discover this product. CamelBak have not only succeeded in reinventing the lowly bidon, but they've also managed to rename various parts of it ("Jet Valve" and "TruTaste(tm)") in tremendously exciting ways. Even more exciting, it's also the official bottle of the Saunier Duval team, who were one of the top teams in professional road racing until yesterday morning. All CamelBak forgot here was a homing device, so that the riders who jettison their bottles pro-style on the last lap in the local Cat 4 races can find them again afterwards. Despite this ommision, I think I may actually be ready to accept their challenge and "Step up to the podium." (That's another good advertising tactic, by the way--dare the buyer to use your product. Much more effective than some creepy copy about the bottle nurturing you like a mother's teat or something and the Jet Valve beckoning your lips like an expectant nipple, which you'd probably get if this were made by an Italian company.)

Speaking of Saunier Duval, I've already gotten over any disappointment I may have felt about their leaving the Tour. Doping in bike racing is simply the gift that keeps on giving, in that you not only get the excitement of watching the finish, but you also get the additional excitement of a revised podium a few days later. How many other sports give you double the number of winners for your money? Also, I'm happy as long as Dmitry Fofonov stays in the race. It's important in any Grand Tour to have at least one rider whose name sounds like a suggestive verb when it's mentioned by Phil Liggett. To me his name sounds like something a parent might accuse an adolescent of doing if he's been in the bathroom too long. "Are you Fofonov in there?" [Sound of zippers and rustling clothing.] "Uh, no. Leave me alone!" Most importantly, I'm one hundred percent convinced that the "biological passport" will eradicate doping from the peloton once and for all. Of course, I'm not sure what a "biological passport" is, but if I understand correctly it's basically just a wadded-up used Kleenex. (The kid Fofonov in the bathroom probably has a bunch of "biological passports" under his bed.)

Despite the fact we're still in the middle of the Tour, the fact is that road racing season's basically over anyway. The astute rider has already written it off and begun focussing his or her attention on cyclocross. The key to a successful racing season is to always live a minimum of four months in the future, mentally-speaking. That way you can dismiss your poor performances as simple preparation. Sure, you may not get anywhere near the front of the pack in a road race this summer, but you're just trying to get some intense mileage in so you'll be ready for cyclocross season. Poor mountain bike racing is even easier to rationalize--you're just doing that to improve your bike-handling. And of course once 'cross season does begin, you're still under no pressure to get results because, really, you're just doing it to maintain your form during the off-season. With the right attitude, you can surf an entire year of racing like a great big wave of mediocrity. Winning is for dopers and sandbaggers.

Of course, as a lousy bike racer and an involuntary New Yorker I've grown accustomed to mediocrity. Forbes Traveler recently announced the top ten most bike-friendly cities in North America, and New York City only managed eighth place. (At least we beat Minneapolis and Chicago.) No prizes for guessing which city came in first, but if you still need a hint here are three: it's wet, it's in the Pacific Northwest, and it's not Seattle. Sure, they may have been a shoe-in (or, more accurately, a sandal-in) for victory, but I still would have liked to see a dark horse nip them at the line. The last thing their bike community needs is more ego-stroking. And perhaps one day, New York will know what it's like to occupy a podium spot. Until that day comes, though, I will expect mediocrity from everything except my water bottles.

Harshing My Mellow (Pt. II): Partying in the John

A crucial stage of decay in the shelf-life of any serialized form of entertainment is the "two-part episode." Such a gambit generally presages a shark-jumping in the not-too-distant future. As such, it was with some trepidation that I embarked on my own "two-part episode," which I will mercifully conclude with this second installment. However, I rationalize it thusly:


1) I went all the way to Austin. Texas, no less! Once there, I braved heat, trucks, and the sort of smarmy politeness from strangers that I always encounter when I leave New York and which I'm never sure is sincere or not. To do so and not post about it would be like incurring a wound and not lifting the bandage and showing everybody you know.


2) I am supportive of any new bike shop, even if it is part-owned by a celebrity and doesn't really need my support. I'm even supportive of Chari & Co., who also had an opening party this past weekend in New York City, and I wish them nothing but success. (Even though the pictures I see kind of make me sick.) So I figure a new shop in Austin that's actually well-stocked, well-staffed, and worth a visit merits a little attention. I mean, it's no Dah Shop, but it's pretty sweet. After all, where else can you not only buy bike stuff but also look at Tour de France memorabilia and modern art, drink gourmet coffee, and take a free shower all under the same roof? Just add a retired cyclist in Nikes pawing at you and you'll know exactly what it's like to be Ashley Olsen.


3) A "two-part episode" may smack of shark-jumping, but until I actually do a holiday post that starts with "A Very Special BSNYC" and involves all of us learning valuable lessons about love and togetherness I figure my skis still haven't left the water.


4) My anonymity affords me little opportunity to bask in the limelight, so I figured I'd take the opportunity to explore the way the rest of the freeloading, product-grubbing, propaganda-parroting cycling press lives.


So come with me as I take you on a virtual night on the town in Austin.





The sign's to let you know what's inside. The camera is to keep you from stealing. I would advise against any shoplifting attempts. This is Texas and they shoot people for that.


As I was with an entourage and intended to imbibe I left the bike behind and engaged a driver. Also, there was a thunderstorm. Austin's fixed-gear community was undaunted, however. I guess they only put their bikes in the car when it's dry.


As a cycling blogger of some renown I had some other appearances to make before attending the Mellow Johnny's opening. Here at Tsunami I signed stickers and read aloud from a selection of Commiecanuk's comments. Three people showed up, but only to use the bathroom, and there was chips and salsa. I guess that full-page ad in VeloNews was a waste.

I arrive with my entourage at Mellow Johnny's to find that it has transformed itself from an innocent bike shop to a throbbing neon party whore. My entry was only slightly derailed when my 80mm heel got stuck in a crack in the pavement. But I think I still managed to pull it off.


Inside the shop. Way in the background is a big arty thing by Raymond Pettibon and some other guy I can't remember because he didn't have anything to do with Black Flag (I don't think). A little to the left of that is the Naked bike which won "Best in Show" at the NAHBS. There are plenty of photos of it elsewhere so you don't need more from me. I'm not sure if the bike in the foreground with the kickstand has a story, though it may be Five Boro Bike Tour winner Lawrence Orbach's training bike. I'm the guy standing behind the camera with a broken heel.


Can you feel the hot breath of the Apocalyptic Alpaca on your neck? If so, that's because you can actually buy a top-tube pad from Lance Armstrong. Yep, MJ's has plenty of fixed-gear bikes and accessories. Behold the dreaded "Wall of Fixies!"

I was surprised that MJ's was carrying Caloi, though this was the only one they had in stock. They wouldn't let me test ride it either. Oh, by the way, if you visit Mellow Johnny's, don't lick the bikes. Gary Fisher tried it and got his crazy ass thrown out.


What says "party in a bike shop" louder than drinks on a pedal display case? Those Speedplays weren't the only things with lots of float. I too was getting pretty loosey-goosey.

Lance Armstrong's climbing bike from the 2005 Tour de France.


Mock gas tank is triple-butted for weight savings.


The Austin heat was oppressive and I had a nice set of sweat earrings to go with my heels, so I adjourned to the courtyard with my entourage in search of relief. I didn't find it, but I did find the beautiful people of Austin. Well, people of Austin anyway. Hey, I am from New York. I'm used to better-looking crowds.


Since the crowd wasn't really cutting it for me, I figured I'd try to correct things with margaritas. See that? The crowd looks better already.


Here's two more Austin porta-potties. I think they were feeling a little out of place since they weren't mixing in with the rest of the guests. They did relax enough take off their Cones of Smugness, though. I went over to talk to them since they didn't seem to be having that great of a time. And thanks to my innate charm and the miracle of the MargaritaCam...

...those porta-potties became party-potties!

Crowd still isn't cutting it. Time for the MargaritaWineWineCam.

The MargaritaWineWineCam made me very drunk and hungry. I made my way over to a bowl of dip which turned out not to be dip at all but actually a table setting full of gravel in a southwestern motif. It was delicious.


My mouth was now dry from the gravel, so I headed back inside to freshen my drink. On the way to the margarita machine, I was confronted by the shop's dark overlord, his starred-and-striped bat wings spread out menacingly over his minions.

My freshened drink, moments before I toppled headlong into a rack full of Mellow Johnny's bib shorts.


Righting myself, I headed over to chat with Lance. I spoke to him for about 15 minutes before I noticed he had his back to me, and for another 10 minutes before I realized he was in fact a headless mannequin. I don't shame easily, though, and I wasn't really embarrassed until I noticed that I also had about six pairs of bib shorts hanging off of me.


By this time it was beginning to dawn on me that I had had too much to drink. I looked at the wall and grew dizzy. There was only one Maillot Jaune up there, but I could have sworn it looked like seven! This, coupled with the bowl of gravel I had just eaten, was making me nauseous. So I remembered something the mannequin had told me: "If you're going to puke, make sure to do it on Chris Carmichael." So off I went.


I couldn't find Chris Carmichael, but I did find the bathroom. Here's the view as you walk into it. I can assure you this was not helping the state of my stomach. By the way, there are free showers in the bathroom. I did not avail myself of them, though I do think it's a great idea. In Texas, that is. In a more liberal state public showers would doubtless get a little out of hand.

OK, time to leave. Unfortunately, while I was in no condition to walk, there was no way I was going to demean myself by traveling via pedi-cab. So I looked for an alternate means of transportation...


...and found it in the form of this Oakley Death Tank. If you own a car and had it parked anywhere on or around Nueces St. last Saturday night, I owe you an apology. Don't worry, though. The damage should buff right out.

And that's the end of that. I'd just like to send out a sincere thank you to the people at Mellow Johnny's. If you find yourself in Austin be sure to check it out. Just go easy on the margaritas.

Oh, and Oakley people, if you're looking for your Death Tank, try Barton Springs Pool. Because that's where I woke up.

The BSNYC Good Friday Over-Share

Remember cyclocross? You know, that thing you tried a few years ago, swore you'd never do again, and ever since then has somehow become the highlight of your season? Well, I'm pleased to announce that the new issue of Cyclocross Magazine includes an article I wrote about why 'cross will never jump the shark. (And it has nothing to do with the fact that placing a shark tank between a pair of barriers is not only UCI-illegal, but also prohibitively expensive and downright dangerous.) Look--they put my name on the cover and everything! And rest assured there are also much better articles and interviews in here concerning people who are actually good at 'cross as well. So if you love 'cross (or if you hate it, which you undoubtedly do if you partake in it) check it out.


Moving on, there's something else I'd like to share with you as well. As the author of a popular cycling blog, I've gained access to certain perks and benefits that are simply not available to the average cyclist. For example, I no longer pay for tubes. They just show up at my house--free! Also, I get special treatment at bike shops. I mean, they still ignore me when I come in, but they don't actively insult me. But perhaps best of all is the secret website.

That's right--when you reach a certain level in the cycling world, you get to use a secret website that gives you huge savings on all kinds of cycling gear. If you read this blog regularly, you know I'm not easily impressed, but I have to say that the secret website is absolutely amazing. The way it works is, they send you emails with a special code. Then you go to the website, order what you want, and put in the code. It's a lot like buying marijuana from a delivery service actually, and it's every bit as intoxicating. Except it's a lot cheaper.

I have to admit though that over the last few months I've started feeling a little guilty about it. I mean, who the hell am I? Why should I get special treatment? In fact, I started to think that maybe I should share the secret website with my readers. Finally, this morning, I got an email from the secret website that was so unbelievably tempting that I decided I finally had to spill the beans. Here it is:

Yup, you read that right. An additional--additional--10% off on orders of $75 or more. Just because it's Easter! You don't have to be Christian, or even like Jesus at all. (They don't check--trust me.) And they have sales like this all the time. I think you can see why I can't sit on this thing any longer. All this time I've felt like a hen, sitting on a hatching egg as the chick's beak pokes me in the crotch. So I'm finally letting the cat out of the bag--or the chick out of the egg. Of course, I can't reveal the actual URL of the site (I'm too scared to lose my priveleges) but you can see the secret discount code in the lower left of the image, which should give you a clue.

Oh, one more thing--they even invent their own components. Check this out:

Ever removed your seatpost and not remember where its position was? This rubber piece fits around your post as a reminder, aesthetically improves the seatpost/frame junction, and provides additional protection from crud getting around the seatpost. Black.

Amazing. Not only do I lose track of my saddle position all the time, but I absolutely detest the aesthetics of my seatpost/frame junction. Get out of my head, secret website. Get out of my head!

Finally, there's one more thing I'd like to share with you. (Don't ask me where all this munificence is coming from. It must be the change of season.) A reader recently shared this with me. I've been whining for awhile about the lack of variety in cycling-related TV. I've even pitched my own shows. But I've now seen the future of Bike-er-tainment, and its name is the Opinionated Cyclist:

Give this guy a talk show and a sidekick and you're in business.

BSNYC Thursday Fun Quiz #3! (Special Self-Promotional Edition)

Don't worry, it's only one question, and it's an easy one. Think carefully and click on your answer. If you're wrong, you'll see Pee Wee Herman dancing with Grace Jones. If you're right, you'll see the maillot jaune saluting his adoring fans:

The December issue of "Bicycling" features an interview with which acrononymous entity?

--NYPD

--BSNYC

--BLT

--NAMBLA

Yes, awhile back I mentioned that I have always dreamed of being published in "Bicycling." Well, that dream has finally come true, proving that the best way to get people's attention is to taunt and mock them. And not only am I interviewed in that esteemed publication, but there are also obfuscated photos of me and a bicycle belonging to me. This should provide a good opportunity for anybody I have mocked here to mock me back.

The December issue will be on the stands on October 30th, but subscribers should be getting theirs any day now, so if you're curious keep an eye out for it. Thanks everybody for reading, and thanks to "Bicycling" for the fun opportunity.

Bicycles and Their Counterparts In Nature

Most of us at some point or another find it necessary to delude ourselves into believing there's some kind of order and symmetry in the Universe. Whatever. But one interesting aspect of this is the Platonic Ideal. Now, I don't think every piece of crap here has some perfect counterpart in some other world we can't visit. But I do think that every bicycle I see has some perfect living counterpart out there in the natural world--a non-bicycle doppelganger. Here are some examples:

What Will Be the Next Trendy Bike?

Obviously the undisputed trendy bike of the moment is the track bike. However, it's becoming abundantly clear that they are jumping the shark. They've been written up in just about every mainstream news publication, and even your average sedentary middle-aged non-cyclist equates "hipsters" and "those bikes with no brakes."

Certainly with this kind of attention the young and trendy must be scrambling to find a new bike to not ride, and if I were in the bicycle business I'd be racking my brains over what that might be. Here are just a few possible candidates:

Cyclocross Bikes

Cyclocross is becoming more and more popular in the US every year. Not surprising, since it's possibly the coolest form of bicycle racing ever, and one of the few that's even fun for spectators. But will 'cross bikes become hip?

Pros: Cool-looking, fast, versatile, single-speed friendly (Bianchi offers a pre-built singlespeed 'cross bike, so there you go) and offered by major manufacturers and boutique builders alike

Cons: Somewhat practical, which means you might actually have to ride the thing

BMX Bikes

I'm already seeing plenty of 20-somethings riding 20-inch-wheeled BMXs around the trendier neighborhoods, spun out at 7 miles per hour and kneeing themselves in the chins with each pedal stroke. But is this the new black?

Pros: Relatively inexpensive, single-speed, complements the skater/urban aesthetic, completely ill-suited for commuting and urban transportation outside of a two-mile radius

Cons: The embarassment when some 16-year old shows you up in front of your girlfriend

Old Road Bikes

The old road frame with horizontal dropouts has long been the standard for fixed-gear conversion. But inevitably, some fashion victim has got to realize, "Hey, this thing's pretty cool as it is!" before he strips the thing (or pays a shop to do it). And who knows--maybe the people introduced to cycling by the fixed gear fad may actually discover they like to ride and seek out a bike with gears for longer jaunts.

Pros: Appealingly "vintage," can be had cheap, lots of people have the parts left over from their conversions

Cons: Obtaining information and parts can lead you into a strange, creepy, unhip and unappealing world of retro-grouchery and extremely long headtubes

Tall Bikes

These stupid things can be seen being ridden by smelly squatters who do stuff like joust on them.

Pros: Already a fixture of the trendier neighborhoods, aren't these things ripe for mainstream appropriation?

Cons: Even the most determined fad-monger has to admit these things are completely ridiculous (not to mention impossible to get into an apartment)

Unicycles

Fixed gear, no brakes!

Pros: Leaves hands free for juggling

Cons: No NJS unicycles...