Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Fixedgeargallery...of twisted metal

Awhile ago I wrote about handlebar setup because it's a subject that is important to me. Lately I've been seeing more and more awkward, outlandish, and downright freaky handlebar setups, particularly on fixed-gear bicycles. Look, I understand a little experimentation and creativity can be a good thing--the hatchet job of today could certainly become the commuter bar of tomorrow. And mutations in nature are important because they spur evolutionary change. However, sometimes mutations are just mutations. And frankly, some of these mutations should be rounded up and hanged by torch-wielding locals. I'm guessing handlebar setup wasn't among the subjects discussed at the recent Symposium, because here are three disasters from the latest batch of bikes on Fixedgeargallery. These riders shouldn't be behind the handlebars of a bicycle; they should be behind the bars of a prison cell:


"Just Call Me Stubby"

The whole incredibly short flat bar thing started with messengers, who cut their bars down so they could slip through traffic. However, non-messengers started picking up the look, attracted to both the minimalist appearance of the bike as well as the riding position it creates, which evokes someone fighting to hold onto their scarf which they accidentally flushed down the toilet while still wearing it. Now, it is simply a fashion statement--there is no other reason you'd ever want bars this narrow, since your handling will become squirrellier than a Beatrix Potter story. (Correct bar width can be approximated by using the distance between your shoulder blades. And while people might argue the validity of that method, I think we can all agree that it should not be based on the distance between your nipples.) On this bike, you can see the stubby bar look in extremis. Note the pinch bolt-mounted brake lever. Nothing like compromising your braking integrity and your stem integrity all at once. I admit, I've never been to Canton, Ohio, so I don't know if conditions warrant this sort of handlebar setup, but something tells me in this case the choice was motivated less by congestion and more by style. But since no real "style" is in evidence on this machine, I'm thinking perhaps the motivation might have been nostalgia for a certain childhood pastime. The bike probably handles similarly too:




"Old Skool? More Like Home-Skooled."


This chainless beaut is set up to evoke the track racers of old, but instead it evokes a crappy old Schwinn that has hit a pothole hard enough to rotate the bars. It's difficult for me to envision a viable riding position that wouldn't involve lying on the saddle with your feet sticking out behind you. It's not difficult, however, for me to imagine these bars as a giant pair of eyebrows. And I'm thinking of a couple in particular. (I've always wanted to pretend I was riding Sam Donaldson's head.)




"Fangs for the Memories"




But of all the untenable handlebar setups out there, this one is certainly among the worst I've seen. Could someone out there please explain to me how you are supposed to operate those brake levers? It's gotta be like trying to eat an apple with your hands tied behind your back while the apple hangs from the chandelier by a string. Or are they intended as foot pedals? I will admit, though, they do give the bike a certain snakelike menace. (Kind of vampiric too--this thing's a cape away from being a character in an Anne Rice novel. Note the creepy bird in the upper-left corner.) I can imagine the rider rear-ending a car because he can't get enough leverage on the brake, endoing, and getting his bike fangs stuck in the sheet metal.



Monday, August 27, 2007

Cycling Couture: 2008 Primal Wear Sneak Preview

There's no surer way to start an argument among the different sects of cyclists than by discussing correct attire. From the baggy-short and Camelbak-wearing freeriders to the garish, form-fitting lycra-clad roadies, everybody thinks what they wear is right and what everybody else wears is ridiculous. But whether you reconnoiter the rail-trails on a Rivendell Rambouillet, or you terrorize the town on a trendy track bike, you've got to agree that cycling fashion doesn't get hotter than Primal Wear. Here's a look at some of the new fashions they've got coming in 2008:
For awhile now the Primal“Tattoo Arm Warmer” has allowed cyclists to experience the excitement of having tattoos with the convenience of being able to shuck them before you get to the office. But what about riders who already have full tattoo sleeves? Shouldn’t they be able to change lifestyles like underwear too? Well, now they can, because Primal is introducing the “Bare Arm Arm Warmer.” This functional yet stylish accessory will allow the inked to enjoy the look of clean, naked skin. It will be available in a variety of skin tones, each of which will come in three versions: hairless, hairy, and Alec Baldwin.

(The “hairy” version in Caucasian.)

Primal has long offered rock n’ roll jerseys featuring bands such as Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, and the Rolling Stones. This year Primal have got the younger rider in mind and they’ll be updating their offerings into the 80s and 90s with fresh, hip new acts like:

Self-Righteous Aussie Flash-in-the-Pan Midnight Oil:



Proto-grunge snooze-rockers Soul Asylum:



And shrill-voiced Death Metal pioneer King Diamond:




And when it comes to pop culture, Primal doesn’t stop with music. They also pay homage to popular films like “Animal House” and “Scarface.” And for 2008 lucrative new licensing deals will allow them to offer even more movie and TV-themed jerseys. Some of the more exciting ones will include:

CNN Medical Expert Dr. Sanjay Gupta


An entire series of jerseys based on the characters of Don Cheadle:



And “Inside the Actors Studio” host James Lipton:



But with Primal, it’s not just about licensing. It’s also about tongue-in-cheek cycling-specific humor, like the “Part Breaker” and “Crankin’ Stein” jerseys. The punning will continue into ’08 with designs like:

“Put the Hammer Down!”





“Changin’ Geres” (featuring young sex symbol Richard Gere on the front, and aging Buddhist Richard Gere on the back)



and of course “Get On That Wheel!” featuring the tear-jerking pottery-wheel scene from “Ghost”



And speaking of hunks, Primal’s not forgetting the women in ’08 either. They’ve known for years you love butterflies and menstrual-cycle references. For ’08, they’re also adding:

“Flowers ‘N Babies”



“Ellen”


and “Traditional Indian Wedding Costume”




So remember—for 2008, get Primal!

Friday, August 24, 2007

Fixed-Gear Revelry: A Konvergence of Kogs!

When fixed-gear riders get together, things can get very exciting. Like a motorcycle rally, there's a veneer of rebellion over the particle board of conformity. Like a Jewish singles' night, there's schmoozing, kibbitzing, and general mishigas. And like a comic book convention, there's pure, unbridled geekery. Recently, the Fixedgeargallery Fixed-Gear Symposium took place somewhere that wasn't New York or San Francisco, and I've been enjoying the wealth of pictures it has produced. From the looks of things, not since that cocktail party where they let me put my drink right on the table has there been this much fun without coasters. Here are some shots that really brought the spirit of the event home for me. If you want to put on a successful bike rally (as I'm planning to do with the BSNYC Gripe-a-Thon sometime next year), these are the essential ingredients:

Terrorization of the suburbs...





World-class competition, including the grace of skidding...






The blistering speed of a road race...





The poetry in motion that is bike polo...




And the motionless display of colorful plumage that is competitive track-standing.









Like the Sturgis motorcycle rally, there's also gleaming bikes as far as the eye can see...







And rampant toplessness.







And don't forget the merchandizing!





But most of all, there's raw, pure, unfettered bike lust:





Next year in Williamsburg!

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Worst Of NYC Craigslist Bike Ads #18

I carry a lot of hatred in my heart, and I reserve an entire ventricle for bike art. I'm not talking about Taliah Lempert, whose stuff is pretty cool--and from whom I will be commissioning an oil painting of me with my favorite bike. No, I'm talking about light fixtures made out of wheels, bracelets made out of spokes, clocks made of chainrings, tables made of rims, and toilet paper holders made out of head tubes. Yes, I may live and breathe cycling, but I don't want to eat on it or unfurl toilet paper from it too. So naturally this one bugged me:





art for cyclist - $150 [Original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/bik/403977332.html]
Reply to: [delete]

Date: 2007-08-23, 10:31AM EDT

I have this handmade *bikefish* for sale. It can be painted to your choice of color.

thanks for looking


This thing has actually been on here for years, and it's clear why. As a cyclist (or as a fish enthusiast), at what point do you decide to spend $150 on something like this rather than on something for your bicycle (or your aquarium)? I mean, $150 will buy you a rideable frame (or three Black Cap Basslets)! This is the kind of thing a non-cycling friend or relative gives you and you accept really awkwardly, or that you'd find in the home of someone who wears sandals with heavy wool socks in the winter, or that you'd actually go see in order to beat the artist with it so that he never posts it again.

This thing puts the "ick" back in "ichthyology." Then again, that's one honey of a track end on there. This baby's ripe for a conversion. Just weld a few more tubes on that sucker and you've got yourself a Darwin fish. Ugh.

Fixedgeargallery...of duelling styles


One of my favorite things about Fixedgeargallery is the incredible variety of styles. There are infinite ways to ruin an innocent bike, and thanks to online galleries new examples are paraded before us every day. And unlike the real world, where devotees of certain styles tend to band together, online you can see them all side-by-side. Here are two that, while completely different, compliment each-other in a Turtle-and-Drama kind of way:



Years ago hip-hop culture was shipped wholesale to Japan only to return in a much more potent, refined and marketable form. It was then sold back to us through expensive periodicals with lots of pictures and little text and in overpriced boutiques in trendy neighborhoods. Somehow track bikes got caught up in this as well. Owners sought graffiti murals in front of which to photograph their bikes, chose their upgrades based on pictorials in style magazines, and began referring to their bikes as "whips" that are "mad fun to ride." You're now more likely to find a track bike in a sneaker shop than in a velodrome, and the rider's more likely to be wearing untied Nikes than Sidis. (Sadly, though Nike has left cycling, their influence remains.) This Pista (complete with dope rear rim) embodies this aesthetic well--I count at least four things on this bike that could have been upgraded to better effect for the money spent on those ridiculous wheels, which I hate to say are mad ugly, yo.

On the other hand, we have this specimen. Largely a relic from another decade, it has tried to reinvent itself in fixed-gear form in order to fit in with a younger crowd. The owner has duly noted the aero-wheel-in-the-front trend, and so he sourced the Hed from an old tri bike. Unfortunately it misses the mark--that wheel's not deep dish, it's a Pizza Hut stuffed-crust pizza. He also dug out the Alter stem, which, along with the mullet and the zebra-striped kit, is right up there with the things of which Mario Cipollini is most ashamed. Then there's the "Dura Ace" crank (sure, Shimano made a 110bcd black Dura Ace crank, didn't you know that?) with the mind-bogglingly absurd 60 tooth chainring. I guess the owner figures he'll blow out what's left of his knees in order to try to hang with the kids. (Gearing rule-of-thumb: your chainring should not be larger than your front wheel.) Lastly, and perhaps saddest of all, is the Garmin so he can find his way home.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Cycling in NYC: Know Your Enemy

For those of you who are new to cycling in the city, or who may be planning a trip to town with bicycle in tow, following is a guide to the local vehicular fauna that inhabits our streets. Recognizing their appearance, habits, and means of attack is essential to your survival. Here are seven of the most dangerous vehicles you’re likely to encounter:


Yellow Cabs


New York City yellow cabs are the sharks of the automobile world. While they’ve become the archetypal example of bad driving, aggressive behavior, and general internal-combustion mayhem, the fact is they’re pretty low on the danger scale and are pretty easy to deal with. Recently, as one drifted slowly into the bike lane and nearly crushed me against a row of parked cars, I knocked urgently on its sheet metal in the same way you’d punch an approaching shark in the nose to drive it away. The driver not only refrained from squelching me, but also offered up a bewildered expression that could have been interpreted as an apology in some countries. If that’s not politeness and consideration I don’t know what is.


Town Cars/Car Services





These things, on the other hand, are death on wheels. Generally speaking, the older and more customized the Town Car the more dangerous it is. A shiny new Town Car in Manhattan is generally operated by an upscale car service and will for the most part operate with a degree of civility, as the driver is not about to delay the financier or celebrity in the back seat by having to stop to pry a cyclist from under the car. However, as the cars age, they are sold to progressively lower-end car services, and they bring their increasingly predatory behavior to habitats well outside of the city. They acquire more layers of paint, more dents, and shinier wheels. The suspension is also usually jacked up too, to ease the removal of unfortunate cyclists from underneath the chassis. Eventually they become gypsy cabs, whose drivers are responsible for more hitting-and-running than the Yankees and Mets combined. If in doubt, check the car’s antenna length. The longer the antenna the more dangerous the car. Some of these things have antennas so long they resemble trolley polls on electric buses. This is because they receive their marching orders from the center of the earth, and are dispatched by Satan himself.



Access-A-Ride Buses





According to the MTA, “Access-A-Ride (AAR) provides transportation for people with disabilities who are unable to use public bus or subway service for some or all of their trips. It offers shared ride, door-to-door paratransit service.” What they fail to mention is that for some reason these things rarely have passengers on them and they drive like bats fly. Their preferred mode of attack is going through intersections at high speed ten seconds after the light has changed, switching lanes schizophrenically, and making high-speed right turns on red. If you don’t know what these things look like, they’re boxy white buses similar to airport shuttles, and they usually have a crushed wheelchair under the front bumper that’s throwing out a shower of sparks.


City Buses

Like Access-A-Ride buses, these too will run lights. They are also emboldened by their formidable size and will quite willingly play chicken with cyclists. One favorite tactic is to speed up in order to pass you, and then to quickly pull over at the next bus stop in an attempt to make you either stop short or hop the curb. Don’t make the mistake of thinking a municipal service like a bus would ever yield the right-of-way to a fellow citizen when it’s appropriate to do so, or would take the huge disparity between your level of vulnerability and theirs into account. It won’t. It will, however, kill you.

Fresh Direct Trucks


Thanks to the proliferation of people in places like Brownstone Brooklyn who are too important to do their own shopping, the urban landscape is now completely cluttered with Fresh Direct delivery vehicles. Fresh Direct customers cite their busy careers and child-rearing responsibilities as reasons for having their groceries delivered to their homes, despite the fact that people have somehow managed to juggle these tasks successfully for centuries now. The truth is that they are of a certain breed that considers olives and fresh shrimp a staple, who won’t let their children watch TV despite owning four giant plasmas, and who are secretly thrilled at the prospect of having three or more service people in their house at a given time. (For them, making the cable guy work around the contractor while their personal organizer accepts a FedEx package is ecstasy.) Unfortunately, they make the rest of us work around their service people as well, since these trucks stop wherever and whenever they want, and halt traffic for blocks. And should you attempt to speed by one, you are liable to become one with a hand-truck laden with free-range chicken, tapenade, and organic vegetables.



Old American-Made Minivans


If you happen to be cycling in New York and you see an old domestic minivan, immediately dismount and seek the nearest sidewalk. (Though once off the street you’re still not completely safe from them.) Fortunately, you can usually hear these things first, since they emit a shrill chirping sound caused by their squeaky belts. They are usually carrying three generations of a large family simultaneously, and for some reason these families almost universally designate the driving duties to the shortest, angriest, and most confused family member among them. These things straddle lanes like Hollywood starlets straddle producers, and for reasons I have yet to deduce, they want you dead. Forest green ones with bubbling tinted windows are the most dangerous, followed closely by maroon. And if the driver is on a cell phone, just get it over with and kill yourself.



Food Delivery Bikes



It’s sad that one of the most dangerous vehicles out there in New York happens to be a bicycle. But it’s true—these things operate with an impunity that would make an Access-A-Ride driver blush. Take a seasoned messenger’s risk-taking and disregard for traffic laws but subtract his artful ability to do both well; that is a New York City food delivery person. Now, I don’t mean to begrudge anybody making a living by bike, and I certainly respect someone who makes a living in a manner as difficult as this. But he fact is, some of these guys are incredibly dangerous and will come at you in ways you’d never expect: from between parked cars; flying off curbs; head-on between two lanes of traffic; and leaping from rooftops and swinging from power lines like Paul Reubens did in “Pee Wee’s Big Adventure” during the climactic Warner Brothers studio rampage scene. They also eschew baskets and tend to carry their cargo in plastic bags hanging from their handlebars, which makes their already wobbly department store bikes handle even more unpredictably. Lately, too, they seem to be fed up with not getting the kind of respect and admiration that messengers get, since they’ve actually been trying to race me with increasing frequency in what I can only assume is an attempt to assert themselves as cyclists. The other day I passed a guy with a pizza who was going to be damned if he wasn’t going to beat me to the light. (I tried to let him go but he slowed right down with me like it was a matched sprint.)