Synthesis: Putting It Together

Yesterday, I mentioned Cisco executive, amateur cyclist, and goatee enthusiast Joe Burton's tardy Cervelo-inspired freakout.  While many readers were outraged, it's important to remember that purchasing a high end crabon fribé road bicycle is a major undertaking and a serious commitment.  In fact, it's a lot like a marriage.  Sure, to some small degree a marriage is about making a lifelong commitment to another human being, but mostly it's about obsessing over meaningless details and surrounding yourself with teams of professionals whose job it is to endure your temperamental outbursts and interpret your tyrannical whims.

So whether you're getting a new flat-screen TV, or a new bicycle, or a new car, or a new spouse, it's crucial that the process includes a "Ceremony of Acquisition," in which people coddle you and reassure you and tell you how smart and special you are and what a great decision you're making.  So when Joe Burton's "Ceremony of Acquisition" was interrupted and he did not receive the attention and praise he deserved for purchasing a Cervelo, he got angry.  This is hardly surprising.  Wouldn't you get angry at your wedding if somebody lost the rings?  Wouldn't you be outraged if you went to a Passover Seder and the hosts forgot the Haggadahs?  Wouldn't you be furious at the Pope if he tried to celebrate the Eucharist with an Eggo waffle?  Sure you would--assuming you believe in those things in the first place.  Similarly, when you believe in the awesomeness of the Cervelo as well as in your own awesomeness for getting married to a Cervelo only to have the sacred "Ceremony of Acquisition"disrupted, you become disappointed, disillusioned, and angry.  It's "consumerus interruptus," or what's colloquially known as "blue bills."

Actually, considering the circumstances, Joe Burton actually took it pretty well.  His bike only cost $4,000.  What if he was purchasing an $18,000 bicycle, like Tony Shalhoub's stunt double in this article from the New York Times (forwarded by Daddo-One)?

It's tempting to think that the sorts of people who purchase bicycles that cost many thousands of dollars are doing so because they have a great deal of cycling experience, and as such not only can appreciate and take advantage of the subtle differences between expensive bikes and cheaper ones, but are also possessed of the kind of knowledge, confidence, and self-sufficiency that comes with experience.  As such, it's also tempting to think that they can make their way through the bike-buying process with a minimal hand-holding.  However, this is not true.  The more expensive the bicycle, the more experts need to be involved.  They must measure you like a bass at a fishing contest.  They must point lasers at you and hook you up to a computer like you're a business presentation or a car that's getting the "check engine" light.  Simply put, you require the "Ceremony of Aquisition."  You're not buying the bike; you're buying the attention.

Of course, ITTET, this particular high-end shop has had to change it's approach: 

Mr. Heitmann, who has a Ph.D. in philosophy, explained his bike shop’s adjustments in Hegelian terms: “Take the status quo (thesis), challenge it with a new idea (antithesis), and emerge with a better idea (synthesis). We’re at an antithetical period — I believe the Cadence brand will emerge stronger and better despite the difficulties New York is experiencing now.”

Now, I only have a 105/Centaur/Rival-quality education, but if I understand Heitmann properly he means this:

Thesis

Antithesis

Synthesis

This means that Cadence is going to become the "keytar" of bike shops.  Frankly, I'm not sure Hegelian philosophy is what a struggling bike shop needs, but then again I don't have a Ph.D. and I admit I am a bit of a "keytard."  Apparently, becoming the "keytar" of bike shops involves selling cheaper bikes.  Yet, as the article points out, "Personal coaches, who can charge lawyer-style rates of as much as $150 an hour, are reporting a spike in business."  This is a disturbing sign if you're a retailer of $18,000 bicycles, since it means that crafty consumers have figured out a way to enjoy the "Ceremony of Acquisition" without actually acquiring anything.  In other words, they're skipping the new bike, but they're still paying to have somebody follow them around and tell them how great they are.  This is like being budget-minded by putting your kitchen renovation on hold and then using that as a justification to dine out every night.  I guess wealthy roadies don't want to buy the keytar right now, but they'll still pay top dollar for the lessons.

After spending a little time inside the mind of the high-end New York City roadie, the "excesses" of the fixed-gear world seem quaint in comparison.  As ridiculous as these riders can be, they've got a ways to go before they're paying for alleycat-specific training programs and fixed-gear freestyling lessons.  At the moment, it seems like the New York City fixed-gear riders are in an awkward stage of development, and they're arriving at that place where their fashion choices are becoming painfully at odds with practicality and functionality.

One place these growing pains have manifested itself recently is in fenders.  For some reason, New York City cyclists in general are fender-averse.  Even people who ride bikes with clearance and eyelets for fenders rarely use them.  I suppose it's because they don't like the way fenders look, and instead prefer having abstract pointillist designs on the seats of their pants.  The truth is, though, that fenderlessness is a sign of cycling immaturity (racing bikes and offroad bikes excluded).  Realizing you need fenders is as elementary as toilet training, and in both cases there's nothing as immature as not knowing how to keep your own ass dry.

To their credit, New York City's fixed-gear riders are now spending enough time on their bikes that they are beginning to learn about ass protection.  However, they're also riding bicycles that don't allow it, because they coveted things like "true track geometry" and "tight clearances" that sound cool but are mostly at odds with all-weather city riding.  As a result, I've seen a sudden spike in the number of clip on "beaver tail" fenders--which, as I pointed out last week, are almost always set up so they're almost touching the rear tire, flat-brim style.

Obviously, fixed-gear freestylers aren't going to adopt full fenders anytime soon since they would get in the way of tricks, but generally speaking I feel as though fixed-gear riders in New York City are at an interesting turning point.  They're willing to ride around in utility belts and beards looking like that guy from "Home Improvement," yet they still covet minimalist bikes. Will they finally abandon fashionable affectations and begin to embrace practicality, or will they continue to pursue things like this?

Beaverizing a mountain bike might make sense for muddy rides, but on an urban bike something like this is just sad.  It's really just a pie plate for your saddle.  Once you've fastened an oversized labium like this to your bike you've already admitted you need fenders, so next time you're in the market for a frame you might want to think differently.  Even my lowly Scattante Empire State Courier manages to accommodate full fenders:

Incidentally, as a proud Scattante owner, I've done some research into its provenance.  Here's what the bike looks like as Performance sells it:

However, it's also the same exact frame as the 2008 SE Lager: 



...which is in turn the same exact frame as the Bikesdirect "Windsor Clockwork:"



I'm sure that there are more iterations out there, but I stopped looking because it was getting me depressed.  Suffice to say though that I own at least three bikes in one, and that it can also be purchased for anywhere from $329 to $599.99, depending on your decal preference.  Just make sure you also budget for fenders and coaching.

As depressed as I was to learn about the promiscuity of my Perscattinsor SE (though I still prefer it to that Look), I'm nowhere near as upset as Lance Armstrong, who's now being accused of "misbehaving" during a drug test:


I can't blame him for questioning the tester's validity.  As I've already surmised, the French are attempting to collect enough of Lance Armstrong's hair, nail clippings, and bodily fluids to build their very own Lance Armstrong.  For all he knew, the guy with the backpack could have been an agent in this diabolical scheme.  But what Armstrong didn't know is that the French are actually much closer to completion than anybody thought.  In fact, the French Armstrong bootleg was recently spotted out training:


He's even riding a Trek.  Granted, his Tour de France performance may not be all that animated, but it will almost certainly be re-animated.

Perception: Enlightenment or Madness?

(Lone Wolf with hydration pack, by erik k)

As cyclists and as humans, we inhabit a narrow sliver of reality. Our bodies and our minds are limited, and as such there is only so much that we can palp and comprehend. Sure, we can augment our eyesight with headlamps. Yes, we can stay in the water longer with wetsuits. We can even cover longer distances with wheeled boards and sticks. However, while these may help to some degree, they really only serve to remind us of how feeble we are. Similarly, we also try to expand our minds. Some use meditation, others use mind-altering drugs. Really, though, these are simply helmet mirrors for the soul, granting only a coin-sized glimpse at something beyond the everyday. Few if any of us will ever know true enlightenment and omnipresence.

Yes, life is like a track race. It's full of rules and structure and competition which in the larger context is really meaningless. Still, most of us just focus on the riders in front of us going around and around futilely and going nowhere:


But there's more to existence than this. There has to be. I truly believe that if we open our minds and broaden our perception we can start to see the edges of a larger, more powerful and beautiful reality. And it doesn't need to be a mind-melting revelation either. Sometimes all it takes is a small shift in perspective to see something that's really been there all along:


Yes, there he is, the Lone Wolf, resplendent in his Golden Fleece. A reader sent me this photo, and to me it is proof that the Lone Wolf exists in a higher plane of reality, the periphery of which dovetails with our own. He also palps white pants when he attends the races, because he is 100% class. His expression is one of intense concentration, and I suspect he's either enjoying the race on a molecular level none of us can possibly understand, or he's staring across the infield and glaring menacingly at his arch-rival, World's Greatest Madone owner Bart Kaufman, who could very well be sitting across from him on the other side of the arena. If that is true, we're not just looking at a track race. We're looking at a metaphysical particle accelerator, and as the twin cycling deities of chaos and order, darkness and light, and destruction and rebirth stare each-other down, the universe hastens towards yet another Big Bang.

Either that, or the burrito he had for lunch isn't agreeing with him.

In the meantime, while the Lone Wolf plays with the very forces of the universe, the rest of us play with little more than ourselves. However, some of us do occasionally get bored and reach beyond our own crotchal regions in order to play with something else, and if you're Craig Calfee, that "something else" is bamboo:



This picture was taken at the San Diego Custom Bicycle Show by none other than Erik K, and it's evidence that Calfee may already have moved out of his "George Washington Carver of Bamboo" phase and into his "Colonel Kurtz from 'Apocalypse Now'" phase. Not only is it something someone who's gone half-mad might build, but it also looks like it could actually house a POW. It's not hard to imagine Martin Sheen trapped in there as Dennis Hopper ladles water into his mouth and talks about what a great man Colonel Calfee is. I think on his last expedition for materials, Calfee might have brought some form of tropical brain fever back along with his armfuls of bamboo.

Even worse, word has it that Calfee will actually show a car at the New York International Auto Show this week, and an informant has sent me some spy shots:

Clearly, Ginger and Mary Ann are in the process of installing the roof rack.

But bamboo bikes aren't the only type of bicycle capable of driving a man mad. Cervelos seem to be driving people crazy too. A reader just sent me this shocking story, in which a Cisco executive wished death upon the staff of a bike shop which was late with his Taiwanadian wonder bike:

I thought Cisco was that guy who did the "Thong Song," but I guess it's actually a technology company. Either way, Joe Burton clearly had something up his posterior. We've seen "roadie rage" (or "triathlete rage") before, and at first glance this would seem to be yet another instance of it. However, according to the link in the "Gawker" piece, Joe Burton actually considers himself a "mountain biker." Moreover, he's apparently one of those "all mountain" guys. That certainly explains the goatee, and it also points towards an appreciation for "artists" such as Chris Cornell and Creed. One can only speculate as to what made him snap, but he was obviously in a big hurry to take to the roads on his Cervelo. I'm sure he was eager to ride it in his baggy nylon shorts and hydration pack and helmet complete with visor, so when it turned out he had to wait because the compact crank or the stem riser was on backorder he must have lost it. Bad news for the shop, but good news for the people on the bike path, who were safe from another budding time-trialist screaming "On your left!" for one more day.

Of course, it's also possible that Cervelo were partially to blame for the delay. Perhaps they could supply their retailers more quickly if they had "Centers of Excellence" like Cannondale:

I was genuinely saddened to learn that Cannondale is closing its US factory, but I'm sure the "Five Centers of Excellence" will more than make up for it. As a Scattante owner, I've made frequent visits to my local Scattante "Center of Mediocrity"--or as I call it, the "Temple of Meh"--and it's always helpful to be treated with indifference. In any case, following Cannondale is becoming increasingly like watching the 1986 Michael Keaton classic "Gung Ho." Somebody deserves a few "Ribbons of Shame."

Still, I suppose nothing stays the same. I recently saw the following Craigslist Missed Connection:




JENNIFER ANISTON AT ENIDS IN GREENPOINT - w4w - 100 (greenpoint brooklyn)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-03-31, 8:13PM EDT

hey i was with a friend and i was going to get my bike fixed. i was walking past enids when i saw a ton of paparazzi and film crew. i asked some dude who was in enids and they told me it was you, jen. i stood there for a while looking in at your beautiful face. you have such a beautiful smile jen, and i bet you have the sexiest laugh too. i stood there for about 5 minutes just staring. i'm not sure if you saw me, since there were a bunch of people everywhere and you were filming your new movie "the baster"...but this is worth a shot. i know you're having man problems, and i really think i can give you what you need. i mean that. i want to take you to the movies and then for drinks and then i would love to really work that sexy rich body of yours. jen please email me if you see this, i am a dapper young dyke and you won't regret it.

Which prompted this reply:




re- jen aniston at Enids- damn it use to be such a cool spot - w4w (brooklyn)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-04-04, 6:33PM EDT

now it will be featured in some lame hollywood movie and the obnoxious druggie trust fund kids will drag their asses there from Manhattan
to pose in more of their ongoing fantasy desire of " wanna be MTV reality video" vapid lives.

Christ Jennifer did you really need to spoil this nice outta the way Brooklyn spot for some straight to video Hollywood schlock?

oh and "dapper dyke" -good luck with Jen- but please keep the dates on the other island...lol

This person shouldn't be so upset. Firstly, neighborhoods change. Secondly, the "obnoxious druggie trust fund kids" already took the neighborhood over like ten years ago. In fact, if you go there now, you'll find they've already started breeding and actually have little hipster mini-me children. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before the local bike shops start selling little "My First Fixie" bikes with 14-inch wheels.

If anything, the neighborhood could use a little same-sex celebrity seduction to shake it up.

The Indignity of Commuting by Bicycle: The Spring Classics

Here in New York, yesterday was a lovely spring day, and the streets were teeming with riders of all kinds. To wait at a red light, ordinarily a solitary affair in bad weather, meant to be joined by a cross-section of fellow cyclists: old crappy ten-speed pilots; roadies; triathletes; and fixters complete with low-rise stems, riser bars, and u-lock holsters. (Naturally, I did my best to avoid waiting at any red lights.) It seemed everywhere you looked, somebody was awkwardly enjoying a bicycle.

But while people were racing in the local parks, or cruising around enjoying the weather, or watching the Tour of Flanders amongst friends, I eschewed such frivolity. This is because I take cycling seriously. And as a serious cyclist, it just so happens that today marked the start of my own "Classics" season as well. So any riding I did this weekend was simply preparation for the first true test of the Classics: my Monday Morning Commute.

I'd been targeting this commute for nearly a year now, and going in I knew I had the legs to deliver a great performance. My coaches at Carmichael Training Systems and I had spent countless hours in the wind tunnel, experimenting with various pant cuff retention systems. While we got decent numbers with the Stroke's Extra Leg, we ultimately decided that it was too risky to use new technology like this for a Classic. Instead, we ultimately opted for a traditional setup: Custom Fit Khaki Pleated Dockers complete with hidden waitband, button-through back pockets, and a permanent crease, wrapped from knee to ankle in Saran Premium Wrap in order to prevent interference with the Ironic Orange Julius Bike's drivetrain. Sure, the Extra Leg might shave a few seconds in theory, but during a one-day event it's best not to take any chances.

I awoke this morning to find that we had made the right choice. Spring in New York is unpredictable, and while yesterday's weather was warm and sunny, today's was cool and rainy. As such, after applying the Saran Premium Wrap to my Dockers, my longtime Polish soigneur Thadeusz also used an old commuter's trick and sprayed me from the waist down with 3M Scotchguard Protector for Carpet. I topped it off with a waterproof poncho.

By the time Thadeusz was done with me I was wrapped up like a Sears loveseat out for delivery. Not only that, but the rain had also stopped. Still, off I went. In the Tour of Flanders, things start getting serious on the Koppenberg. Similarly, on my Monday Morning Commute, the first major selection comes at the Yuppieberg:



This is the view from the top of the Yuppieberg, from which the people of Park Slope can look down upon their lesser neighbors below. On Friday and Saturday evenings rivulets of balsamic vinegar and Pinot Noir flow from their brownstone soirées, along the gutter, down the Yuppieberg, and into New York Harbor. Yes, the only thing steeper than the gradient is the percentage with which the real estate values increase as you ascend. Even ITTET, the climb is as wallet-sapping as it is leg-sapping.



Once the Yuppieberg was behind me, I needed a rest, so I stopped at the Gowanus Canal. Here, the only thing more overwhelming than the natural beauty is the noxious gas.


Whenever I seek profound insight, I sit beside the Gowanus, and inevitably it comes. In this sense, it is very much like the Delphic Oracle--probably because they were basically just huffing fumes there too. This visit to the Gowanus Oracle was no exception, and I sat there until a gefilte fish emerged from the murky depths. I knew he was a gefilte fish because he looked like Charlie the Tuna, only he also had a beard and was wearing a Tallis. The gefilte fish told me who will win Paris-Roubaix this year, and then proceeded to go on at some length about what he felt were the shortcomings of the latest Dura Ace group. I wasn't particularly interested in this, since not only did he admit to not having actually tried the new Dura Ace, but also because when Shimano changed the ergonomics they probably didn't have riders with fins in mind. However, instead of pointing these things out to him I simply made an excuse and left.

Unfortunately, I didn't get a photo of the gefilte fish, but I did get one of a tan sedan with a tan raincoat stuck in the door:



I also got a picture of a bike with a pie plate and axle pegs:



Now that's a hot setup.

In Classics like the Tour of Flanders, there's always a lot of excitement when the race passes through the square and all the drunken townsfolk raise their beer glasses and cheer them on. On my Monday Morning Commute, the equivalent of the town square is Fulton Mall, and sadly the townsfolk don't greet me with the same enthusiasm:



Once through the square (I considered taking a feed at Popeye's but I'd wasted a lot of time with the talking fish by this point so decided against it) I came to the next epic climb on my commute, the Manhattan Bridge:


The approach to the Manhattan Bridge is a wide, sweeping turn:



Though some do cut it out cyclocross-style and take the run-up instead:



Once on the bridge, the mighty East River was on my right:


And the subway was on my left:



I always enjoy when the subway rumbles by on the Manhattan Bridge, because it gives me an opportunity to goad the passengers. And few goadings are more effective than those delivered by cyclists wearing ponchos and Dockers wrapped in Saran Wrap and who are still slightly buzzed from Gowanus Canal fumes. Here's one rider who's vainly trying to pretend it isn't happening:




As I crested the top of the climb while waving frantically, making faces, and snapping photos, I was pleased to discover that KOM points were actually on offer in the form of beer:


Not only that, but a little further along I encountered this styrofoam cup art:



If you find yourself Brooklyn-bound from Manhattan at any point today, make sure to grab yourself a cup from the styrofoam cup mural, then help yourself to a beer hanging from the fence in the middle of the span. If you're coming from Brooklyn, simply reverse these instructions. (Though if you're coming from Brooklyn, you're probably already half-drunk anyway.)

The Manhattan Bridge deposits you neatly into Chinatown:



The streets may seem clear and peaceful from up here, but as soon as you leave the bike path an alarm sounds and everybody starts leaping in front of you like when Jim Carrey tries to leave the island in "The Truman Show."

The climbs may have been behind me, but the worst was yet to come in the form of this sector of "urban pavé," or road resurfacing:



As I waited at the red light, I was nervous. Would I be able to make it through? I radioed my longtime Polish soigneur, Thadeusz. "What should I do?," I asked. Unfortunately, my radio wasn't working, but fortunately Thadeusz was right there next to me:


It turns out he'd been walking alongside me the entire time, since I'd only been riding at about 3mph. Thadeusz told me to stop being a "woosie" and to "put the hammer down." So I set aside my woodworking and gingerly made my way through the intersection:



It was treacherous, but thanks to my dorktastically wide tyres (that's the British spelling of "tires," and it's pronounced "tie-rays") I made it through.

Others with lesser setups were not so lucky. Here's a fenderless and bar-tapeless IRO that looks like it's just plotzed:



Here's the bike Boonen and Pozzato might as well have been riding in Flanders yesterday, since Pozzato didn't leave Boonen's wheel the whole time:


But as big a sense of accomplishment as I felt, it was suddenly diminished. After all, I'd only just commuted, which I do every day. I wasn't riding for a higher purpose, like curing cancer, or bringing about world peace:

I've often seen this bike in motion, though before now I'd never seen the "Love Your Lane" banner in the rear. This is because the rider is always going the wrong way in the bike lane. So, ironically, not only can I never read the message, but I also cannot love my lane because some hippie freak coming at me head-on is trying to flower-power my ass out of it. Of course, this hippie isn't all hypocrisy. I believe the front of the basket says "No War For Oil," and she's sticking to the anti-oil sentiment by using none whatsoever on her chain.

But while I may not have saved the world, I did "slay" my Monday Morning Commute Classic, and I plan to palp one of those beers on the way home.

BSNYC Fiday Frun Quiz!

This weekend the Spring Classics begin in earnest with the Tour of Flanders, and the excitement is palpable. ("Palping" is similar to "rocking," or "running," or "rubbing.") One of the most exciting things about the Spring Classics is that riders often palp more traditional wheels and equipment due to the rough cobblestones (except for George Hincapie, who palped crabon wheels at Paris-Roubaix last year with disastrous results.) For this reason, the Tour of Flanders is what's known as a "cobbled classic," and should not be confused with the crappy conversions on Craigslist and Fixedgeargallery, which are actually cobbled-together "classics."

In any case, if you're looking forward to the Tour of Flanders or to the weekend in general, I'd like to dampen your enthusiasm by presenting you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right, you'll know. If you're wrong, you'll see someone playing an ear-splitting guitar solo on a heaven-sent asterisk.

Palp you bike safely this weekend, and thanks for reading.

--BSNYC/RTMS

1) According to Shimano, there is such a thing as "increased levels of perfection."

--True
--False

2) What do these two things have in common?

--Lots of colors

--They are both named "Ritchey"

--Loose balls

--They're both idiots

3) Clip-on plastic fenders that almost touch the rear tire are the flat hat brim of 2009:

--True

--False

4) Cincinnati police are currently on the lookout for a man who stole which unwieldy item and then made his getaway on a bicycle?

--A flat-screen TV

--A gasoline-powered lawnmower

--A Vespa scooter

--Another bicycle

5) This rider, spotted in London, might benefit from which real-life exciting new product?

--Pedro's Handlebar Levelizer

--Stroke's Extra Leg
--Park's Fixed-Gear Colorway Coordination Chart
--iPhone's "Should I Go Out In Public?" App

6) What are the two big plastic things on the front of this bicycle, also spotted in London?

--High-powered headlights
--Tupperware, as this is the owner's ironic cake-fetching bike
--Intergalactic space breasts
--Together with the previous photo, a sign that London's cyclists may be going crazy





7) The message on this headband most likely means that:

--The wearer's head has been repaired via the cranial screwtop method of entry into the brain, pioneered by Dr. Michael Hfuhruhurr
--The wearer has been spayed or neutered
--The wearer believes that Barack Obama's election has effectively repaired (or "fixed") the United States
--The wearer likes fixed-gear bicycles




8) What does this tattoo depict?

--A disc brake rotor that has been thrown with ninja-like accuracy into the wearer's leg
--A delicious disc brake rotor pita bread sandwich
--An extreme close-up of a woman giving birth to a disc brake rotor
--It is impossible to determine with any certainty what this tattoo depicts

***Special Fill-In-The-Blank Knuckle Tattoo Bonus Question***

This is one half of a set of knuckle tattoos. What does the other half say?

--nutz
--ebra
--appa
--ygomorphic

My Bike, It's Full of Stars! Every Material, Every Color, All the Time

Obviously, many cyclists these days get very excited about crabon fiber. However, there are some riders for whom crabon alone simply isn't enough. After all, when you're out there on your road bike, you want to be confident that yours is the most desirable bike out there. While crabon bikes sure are desirable, what happens if you run into somebody with a titanium bike, or a bike with "exquisite lugwork?" These things too are highly coveted, and the experience can be humbling. Sure, you may also have a titanium bike and an "exquisitely lugged" bike back home in the garage, but without a "My Other Two Road Bikes are Titanium and Exquisitely Lugged Respectively" bumper sticker or jersey how is anybody going to know it? That's why you need one of these:






Independent Fabrication xs, Titanium-Carbon Lugged Frame! - $5000 (Brooklyn)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-03-31, 12:08AM EDT

This is the real deal folks. A 100% true original work of art. Museum Quality, brand new condition Ultra Custom Independent Fabrication xs. Titanium Laser Cut Lugs, Carbon Fiber tubes, seat stays and fork.
This frame is truly a one of a kind gem. Hand built to ABSOLUTE perfection, by a former employee. Has been in ads for chris king. The paint job is not even available to customers and if it was it would be an up-charge of nearly $1000. Normally the fork and seat stays are not painted only the tubing, but ALL the carbon is painted on this frame with PPG clear coat with added purple iridescent flake, so it sparkles in the sun transitioning from purple to deep blue to silver. Quite a sight. Comes with the original paper work including in house build sheet. A true collectors item, honored and worshipped, given the treatment of the gods so it is in BRAND NEW condition
Now the specs...
This frame is built with compact geometry 48x53, for someone who would normally ride a 52x53
seat tube length 48cm
top tube: 53
head tube:121
Ht angle: 72
St angle: 73
tt angle: 5
wheelbase: 97.3
Standover: 76.4
Trail: 56.9
Chainstay: 410!!!

Here's the deal. NO LOOKILOOS, HAGGLERS, NON SERIOUS BUYERS. The asking price is $5500 or best REASONABLE and this frame in it's rarity alone is worth $7,000. Look at http://ifbikes.com/frames2/xs.shtml for more reference.
Sorry, the pink chris king head set does not come with the frame. You will the envy of all riding this ridiculous beauty around this spring!!

I have more images I can link you to. Good Luck.




Crabon? Not just carbon, but "purple iridescent flake" crabon. Titanium? Oh yeah--in fact, it's "museum quality," and as any frequenter of museums knows, all the great masters worked in crabon and titanium. Exquisitely lugged? Come on, didn't you read the ad? They're cut with lasers! Still, sometimes even a bike that's crabon, titanium, and exquisitely lugged by lasers all at the same time is still not enough. It needs a pedigree as well. Well, this frameset has that too, because it has been in ads for Chris King. Just imagine the thrill of riding around on your museum-quality sci-fi critanium dream bike and having some lesser cyclist on a plain crabon or ti or lugged bike approach you and ask, "Wow, is that the bike from that Chris King ad? I totally foffed off to that bike." Now that's cycling bliss.

But if you're the type of person who is prone to foffing off in the presence of lugwork, this seller wants you to know he's not running some kind of bicycle peep show or shady "lug and tug." As yo can see, he specifies "NO LOOKILOOS, HAGGLERS, NON SERIOUS BUYERS." So even if you're prepared to pay his full asking price but can't resist also asking if he's heard the one about the guy who walks into a bar with a metal box under one arm and a duck under the other, don't do it, because he'll boot you right out of there. Also, while "lookiloos" is slang for people who look without buying, the word originally referred to baby jackalopes:

(erik k)

That's probably not what he means, but still, if you have one of these you probably shouldn't bring it along.

And if you are sufficiently wealthy and serious and baby jackalope-free to actually acquire this frameset, the first thing you should to is purchase this saddle for it;


At first glance, the graphic on the saddle might look like flaming eyeballs, but anybody who's been to that nasty "Bodies" exhibition knows that they're actually disembodied testicles. I'm not sure why Troy Lee chose to emblazon a bicycle saddle with flaming disembodied testicles, but I guess it's either a placement guide, or else a veiled warning that this saddle is not comfortable. Or maybe flaming disembodies testicles are just the flaming dice of the new millennium.

Speaking of new trends, I have a very bad feeling that a new one is about to pounce like a rabid lookiloo. I recently received in the mail a catalog from a high-end clothing retailer (don't ask me where these things come from--junk mail is like herpes and I guess I must be promiscuous) and while thumbing through it I happened upon this:


Yes, that is somebody skating in a $1,520 designer helmet.

So why am I concerned? There are no bicycles involved, right? Well, just as I must have bought something somewhere with some credit card at some point and wound up with catalog herpes, fashion trends too are like STDs. This is a guy on a skateboard in a fashion retail catalog that also sells expensive jeans. And we know who draws much of their stylistic inspiration from skating and designers and retailers of overpriced trendy clothing. Yes, that's right--urban cyclists. From skating they've appropriated the sneakers and the cinematographic style, and from the world of fashion they've appropriated things like "lookbooks" and "colorways." So it's only a matter of time before someone else with catalog herpes happens upon this and starts marketing fashion helmets to urban cyclists. Look--here's another one:



And this one's $1,750.

With the world of bags and holsters and sneakers and hats and t-shirts already quite crowded, the helmet is the next logical step for trendification. Obviously, not all urban cyclists wear helmets, but many of them do. Even if they don't, they espouse helmet use when the subject comes up. In the fixed-gear world, brakes aren't cool, but helmets are, and here in New York I see brakeless helmeted riders all the time. Really, selling expensive fashion helmets to urban fixed-gear cyclists would be like shooting lookiloos in a laundry hamper. Anybody who can justify spending money on a cycling-specific utility belt or a $290 messenger bag "collabo" will certainly pay way more than that for a helmet, provided it's cool enough. After all, it's for safety, and you can't put a price on safety. (Unless that safety comes in the form of a brake, in which case you can't give it away.) Given the current trend climate of streetwear mixed with retro-chic, I'd imagine this helmet would be some updated take on the old hairnets. That way, they could also display their fitted caps underneath.

In the meantime, from the neck down, cycling fashion seems to have graduated from "colorways" to "color collisions." A number of readers forwarded me this, which comes from some kind of GQ fashion spread:


I'm glad to see some practicality finally coming to urban cycling fashion. As all cyclists know, it's extremely important to give your flaming pants yabbies plenty of breathing room. I'm assuming when it's time to actually get on the bike he just hikes the waist up to his armpits so the crotch doesn't get hung up on the nose of his saddle.

Here are some more hot looks. Actually, it looks like GQ have bypassed "color collisions" and gone straight to "color clusterfucks:"



Also, I'm assuming this photo shoot comes from Europe, so in this case it looks like the "color clusterfuck" look has bypassed the east coast of the United States and gone straight to Boise, Idaho:



Finally, speaking of trends, a reader has forwarded me this interview, which reveals that people are now actually asking their wheelbuilders to place messages on their rims for them:


Yes, putting words on your wheelset is now as integral to the wheelbuilding process as stress relieving.

AYHSMFDT.