From the BSNYC Culture Desk: "The Belle of the Ball Bearings" (A Musical)

As theater fans are well aware, yesterday was the [insert number here]th Annual Tony Awards. And as most cycling fans now know, the surprise winner for best play was five-time Tour de France winner Bernard "The Badger" Hinault's one man show, "Au Contraire," in which he rails against a world gone fou. Highlights from Hinault's performance include:

On whether the Tour is too hard: “The Tour is not too hard. It is necessary to stop complaining. Cycling is a hard profession, but it’s better than going to the factory. A racer who wins is never paid too much. If you really want to win, you fight until your last breath.”

On Armstrong’s comeback: “I hope he will not be there. Is he afraid of France? Nobody forced him to come, he only has to stay home! He cannot win the Tour. I hope that Contador gives him a beating.”

On doping: “The French have taken as much as the others. What is not normal is that they are not treated in the same manner as other sportsmen.”

On earpieces: “I am against them. It is just a ‘Game Boy’ that has a gigolo attached at the end telling the racer when to take a piss. With Guimard, we studied the map and the wind the morning before the stage.”

On Greg LeMond: “He was a good racer, but not an attacker. He was unable to make tactics by himself. In 1986, I kept my promise to help him win the Tour. Me? I just wanted to have fun!”

But Hinault also takes on more than just cycling in his curmudgeonly tour de force. Here are a few less-publicized quotes:

On North Korea: "I don't understand why everyone's giving them such a hard time. This world could use a little less freedom and a little more oppression. Kim Jong-il rules like I used to race: relentlessly, and with a slight pompadour."

On GM's bankruptcy: "What a bunch of sissies. They were on the right track with the Hummer. The public are sheep. If they're not buying your cars, make them buy your cars. As for the unions, it is necessary for them to stop complaining. Building SUVs is a hard profession, but it's better than going to the factory."

On Mickey Rourke's performance in "The Wrestler": "I don't see what all the fuss was about. That performance was lukewarm at best. Darren Aronofsky actually wanted me for the role but I turned him down because I didn't like the ending. I don't want to ruin it, but the wrestler dies. What a total loser."

On Dunkin' Donuts's new Waffle Breakfast Sandwich: "Surprisingly tasty."

However, while Hinault's show may be the toast of Broadway (I'm sure he's browbeating a waiter at Sardi's as I type this), there's another bicycle-themed production that was tragically overlooked. In fact, I didn't even know it existed until late last week. I am of course referring to Elizabeth Battersby's one-woman musical, "The Belle of the Ball Bearings," which is currently playing at The Theater for the New City at 155 1st Avenue in Manhattan. Here is the description:

In BELLE OF THE BALL BEARINGS you can ride your bike to the theater and not worry about locking it outside. In fact, you can keep your eye on it during the show; it'll be parked onstage and made part of the set. The show is inspired by Ms. Battersby's life experience as a bike racer, bike shop owner, bike messenger, and soul mate to everyone who lives life on two wheels.

Elizabeth Battersby sets her musical in 1995, "When computers were just coming in and New York City was a little more interesting." She portrays unique and memorable personalities that include Bike Mechanics, Bicycle messengers, an Irish Grandmother, a Mom, a Rabbi, and a Veteran. The show combines a rock band with added percussion, including the bicycle tools.

"Each brake pad, each sprocket - has it's own story!"


While any sensible person would read this and resolve to stay as far away from the theater as possible, as someone who has made it his life's work to probe the unseemliest recesses of cycling "culture" I knew right away that I had to see this production. This was extremely unfortunate for the person who alerted me to the show, as she had expected me to laugh it off but was instead forced to accompany me. And so it was that within hours of learning of the existence of a bicycle-themed musical we were on our way to the Theater for the New City to see it:



When it comes to art, I endeavor to approach any new work with an open mind. However, I must confess that as we approached the theater I felt very much like I was entering a burning building from which everybody else was fleeing. This sensation only grew stronger as I studied the poster:

Few words are more horrifying when used together than "Bike Shop Musical." It's a phrase almost as off-putting as "Do Not Enter," "Danger of Death," or "Sun Dried Tomatoes." I knew I would need to fortify myself, but we only had a few minutes until the show began, and there was only one bar close enough to the theater affording us ample time to bolster our resolve:


Yes, that is indeed the Coyote Ugly saloon, basis of the 2000 feature film of the same name. Now, I'd never been to the Coyote Ugly, nor had I seen the film, so I figured that if the place had been the basis of an actual movie it couldn't be all that bad. Naturally, I was mistaken:

If anything, you should probably avoid visiting places that have been the basis for an eponymous feature film. The Titanic is a good example of this. You should also expect to spend way too much money. Despite the fact that it was still happy hour along most of the Eastern seaboard, a brace of name-brand whiskeys at Coyote Ugly relieved me of a brace of sawbucks:

Now, I should point out that I don't count pennies when I'm entertaining, and I'm fully appreciative of the fact that one should expect to spend a bit extra when going to the theater. Also, in some establishments you're not paying for the drink; rather, you're paying for the surroundings. However, it's hard not to feel slightly indignant when those surroundings consist mostly of a curtain of dirty bras:

By the way, there are signs in Coyote Ugly which forbid photography on penalty of a fine. As such, I took these photos surreptitiously, though at the same time I felt entitled to snap a few pictures since I had essentially already paid a hefty fine at the bar. Also, it's a good thing I was wearing my Vittorias, since their proven bathroom traction allowed me to remain sure-footed when I visited the urinal:


After we finished our drinks and I did a little jig on the bar in a wet t-shirt, we headed over to the theater, which contained an anteroom being employed as a large art gallery. At this point, I felt like I was in a dentist's waiting room, since I had a bad feeling I was not only about to endure an hour of pain, but was also paying for the privilege:


Once through the gallery, a Fuji poster alerted us to the location of the theater itself:


And here's the set, which as you can see is in fact a reasonable facsimile of a bike shop:


As we waited for the show to begin, we studied the program and contemplated the list of songs we were about to endure:



We also read about the show's writer and star:



Sufficiently assured of Ms. Battersby's "street cred," I took a closer look at the set. Props included not only a fixed-gear bicycle:


But also a p-far:


The playwright Anton Chekhov (or was it Dmitri Fofonov?) famously said, ""If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there." I assumed Ms. Battersby was familiar with this quote, so I wondered how these particular items would be employed, and what sort of grisly tragedy they might portend.

Speaking of portentous, here's the band, whose keyboardist backed Ms. Battersby on vocals and sounded almost exactly like Mr. G from "Summer Heights High:"



After we were briefed on the location of the fire exits (I had to restrain my reluctant accomplice for making off towards the nearest one at this point) and instructed not to take photos without the permission of the producers (an instruction I chose to disregard) the play began. Some patter ambiguously conveyed that Ms. Battersby's primary character, Bobby, was some kind of third-generation family bike shop owner and spinster, after which she launched into "I Fix Things," an ebullient number about how she fixes things. As she sang, she also pretended to, well, fix things. It was at this point that Ms. Battersby's earnestness coupled with the absurdity inherent in the idea of a bike shop musical caused me to shift awkwardly in my seat and to avert my gaze, since even though I was all the way in the back of the theater I was still pretty close to Ms. Battersby and I was afraid that if I met her eye I might start laughing. This would have been a terrible thing, as I had no intention whatsoever of embarrassing Ms. Battersby. Moreover, she seemed more than capable of embarrassing herself.

Fortunately, my facial muscles relaxed and I eventually settled in. For the third number, Ms. Battersby took the metaphorical Chekhovian rifle off the wall by grabbing the fixed-gear and singing "Streetwise:"


Streetwise was a song about Bobby's messenger days, and Ms. Battersby straddled the fixed-gear bicycle and mimed riding through traffic by rocking it back and forth as she sang:

By now I was beginning to find Ms. Battersby's unfettered enthusiasm endearing, though at the same time the fact is that watching bike messengering rendered in musical form is exactly what you'd think it would be: cringe-inducing. "Quicksilver" seems like a documentary in comparison.

On the other hand, "Spinning Rabbi," which Ms. Battersby sings in the "Uncle Rabbi" character (complete with Yiddish accent), was supposed to be funny, and to my profound relief it actually was:


Less humorous was "How Do You Explain," a heavy-handed number in which Grandma Penny Farthing (note the shawl) sings of the empowerment women gained from bicycling at the turn of the 20th century. Yes, "The Bell of the Ball Bearings" is that ambitious. Needless to say, the second Chekhovian rifle was fired here:

By the time the Bobby character implies she may have killed a teenage girl visiting from the midwest while out on a messenger run in the song "14th Street Union Square," I was positively reeling, since it was now clear Ms. Battersby was going to leave no melodramatic stone unturned. I assume "The Belle of the Ball Bearings" is a work of fiction, but if it is indeed based on fact then this revelation certainly adds a whole new dimension to the play. Either way, though, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was watching someone trying to work their way through some emotional issues. Then again, I get that feeling from pretty much any musical, so most likely the problem lies with me.

In any case, I sincerely applaud Elizabeth Battersby for having the courage to mount such an ambitious and uninhibited performance. I also applaud her creativity and admire her obvious commitment to providing entertainment. Sure, it turned out in the end that a bike shop musical is exactly as absurd as you'd think it would be, but that's certainly not for Ms. Battersby's lack of trying. Of course, one could argue that it's because of Ms. Battersby's efforts that the play is absurd, but I disagree. When it comes to bike shop musicals, I would argue that absurdity is the only possible outcome.

BSYNC Friday Fun Quiz!

In Wednesday's post, I posited that perhaps "hipster" bikes are not the best choice for longer road rides. Well, it would seem as though at least one self-professed hipster agrees with me. I recently received an email from "The Bikefag," who has written what is (at least to date) the definitive guide to "Hipster Road Biking:"

I'm sure you will agree that useful information overflows from this article like an overweight hipster's muffin top bursts forth from the waistline of his or her skinny jeans. (Yes, there is such a thing as a male muffin top, though it should not be confused with a "hairy muffin.") And speaking of muffin tops, I was recently perusing the site "Muffin Top Mayhem" (it's where I get the bulk of my news) when I discovered what very well may be the World's Most Pretentious "Tramp Stamp:"

While some might argue that a Biblical quote is more self-righteous than it is pretentious, I think most of us can agree that it is significantly more pretentious than this.

That said, without any further debasement, I am pleased to present you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right, you'll know, and if you're wrong you'll see this inspirational video, courtesy of the Metal Inquisition blog.

Oh, and while there's no time limit for this quiz, if you'd like to make your test-taking experience "epic" you might want to apply one anyway. I suggest using "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" as your timer; not the seventeen-minute Iron Butterfly original, but rather the unfortunate and embarrassing three-minute Slayer cover version. (I'm not sure what Kerry King is holding there, but it appears to be an Iron Skunk.)

Thanks very much for reading, and ride safely and epicly this weekend.


--BSNYC/RTMS





1) Bad news for hipsters! A recent MSNBC article warns that skinny jeans can cause:

--"Tingling Thigh Syndrome"
--tramp stamp fading
--infertility in males
--"Muffin Top Syndrome"


2) While some hipsters may be catching on to road cycling, fixed-gear food shopping may be the next big thing.

--True
--False



3) How many hipsters does it take to parallel park successfully in Park Slope, Brooklyn?

--One (the driver)
--Two (one to drive the car, and one to stand on the sidewalk and make sure the fixies don't get crushed)
--Three (one to drive, one to stand on the sidewalk and make sure the fixies don't get crushed, and one to download the iPhone parallel parking app)
--This is a trick question because it is impossible to find parking in Park Slope



4) An $80,000+ car covered with stickers is:

--A desperate play for "street cred"
--Even more obnoxious than an $80,000+ car without any stickers on it
--Probably a hand-me-down from Mom and Dad
--All of the above



5) Why is the orange bike humping the green bike?

--Because green chains are aphrodisiacs, like green M&Ms
--Because the green bike gave the orange bike that "come hither" look
--Because in New York City, cheap conversion trumps old three-speed
--Because in New York City people can often be inconsiderate




6) This is an example of:

--Epic dog-walking
--Epic unicycling
--Cruelty to animals
--Epic fenderlessness




7) Which is not an actual quote from a recent Cyclingnews review of the Storck Fenomalist?

--"Any unwanted flex is virtually imperceptible and the Fenomalist surges forward under power with an eagerness distinctly lacking in lesser rigs."
--"Rise up out of the saddle on the climb and you can feel the rear contact patch clawing into the pavement."
--"Fenomalist? Phenomenal!"
--"Short of an internal combustion engine it's the next best thing to a gas pedal."



8) Where was this fixed-gear complete with rabbit fur spoke pelts spotted?

--Outside a vegan cocktail party in San Francisco, California
--Outside a taxidermy shop in Mobile, Alabama
--Outside a faux "dive bar" in Red Hook, Brooklyn
--At an Elmer Fudd-themed alleycat in Minneapolis, Minnesota




9) This ride is "epic" in the:

--Rapha sense
--Homerian sense
--Wagnerian sense
--Slow and meandering sense




10) The sticker on the top tube of this cargo bike says, "The Revolution Will Not Be _________:"

--Televised
--Motorized
--Dignified
--Unable To Carry Things



11) In this video, what reason does the rider give for painting his rear Deep-V black?

--"I didn't want to look gay."
--"I wanted it to match my jeans."
--"Black is the radness."
--"My sponsor insisted."

***Special Bonus Extra Credit Philosophical Essay Question***

A reader in Germany forwarded me the above photos of unusual bicycles. Do these machines lend themselves well to "epic" riding? If so, what would an "epic" ride on these bicycles entail? Is one better suited to "epics" than the other? Is any ride on a bicycle like these automatically "epic?" And does the magnitude of an "epic" increase along with the likelihood of elbow abrasions?

The Indignity of Commuting by Bicycle: Riding in Circles

In the world of urban cycling, intersections are to riders what watering holes are to animals on the Serengeti, in that they are the place where various species who might not otherwise interact are forced to come together. As such, there is no better place to observe urban cycling behavior than at intersections. This is especially true here in New York City now that cycling weather is optimal and just about every species of cyclist has come out of hibernation.

One species of rider who displays different types of behavior at intersections is the fixed-gear rider. Generally speaking, a fixed-gear rider approaching an intersection with a red light will behave in one of three ways:

1) Assertive

If the fixed-gear rider is of the hardened messenger variety (or at least aspires to be), he or she will simply refuse to acknowledge either the red signal or the vehicular traffic and continue through the intersection at full speed. Once in the middle of the intersection, the rider may skip-stop or adjust course slightly if necessary. Almost as soon as you see these riders, they're gone, leaving behind a trail of angry motorists and the scent of unwashed pants in their wake.

2) Pensive

The more conservative rider will come to a stop at the intersection, but in no circumstances will he or she put his or her foot down. In fixed-gear circles, allowing your foot to touch pavement is career suicide; it's like when Milli Vanilli got caught lip-synching. Instead, the rider will trackstand, which involves assuming the stance of a pointing bird dog and staring off into the distance until either the intersection is clear or the light turns green. Nothing can break their steely, comical resolve--even the most scantily-clad pedestrian is not enough to draw their eyes away from the distant horizon. So crucial is the trackstand to fixed-gear society that they practice it in their homes.

3) Tentative

As fixed-gear bicycles continue to proliferate so do riders who are visibly uncomfortable on them. While these riders have not owned fixed-gears long enough to master the trackstand, they have owned them long enough to know that they're not allowed to put their feet down. As such, many have developed sort of a work-around, which involves riding in circles or figure-eights at the intersection until the light changes--like sharks, only nerdier.

In fact, some of these riders will go so far as to ride circles around you if you happen to be sharing the intersection with them, and it just so happens that I encountered one of these riders today. Here I am in my chicken suit, waiting patiently at a red light and meditating on vital issues of the day:

As I mused, I was approached from behind by a rider of the "mountainger" variety, in that he was wearing the brown hikey SPD-compatible shoes and baggy shorts of a mountain biker, yet was riding the fixed-gear and wearing the bag of a messenger. He then proceeded to circle me, after which he finally came to a stop in front of me in typical sandbar fashion, at which point he attempted to trackstand unsuccesfully, ultimately forcing him to unclip at the last second and do the unthinkable--touch the street with his foot. I believe in fixed-gear freestyle parlance this is what's known as a "360 to trackstand fail." (Note the "mountainger" is represented below by the pair of baggy shorts.)

Now, you'd think once he'd gone though all that effort not to dab a foot yet still wound up doing so that he'd simply stay put and make the best of the situation by taking a little respite and waiting out the light. Not so--instead, he clipped back in and rode through traffic at the first opportunity. Furthermore, he continued to run subequent lights by employing a variation on the tentative light circling technique, which involves turning and riding halfway up the intersecting block until the coast is clear, and then doubling back and riding through.

While I don't care if people run lights or go to absurd lengths to keep their feet on their pedals during their commutes, I must say that I am against actually circling other riders. In most situations, circling is something that prefaces an attack, so when someone starts riding around you slowly like a bird of prey or a drooling dog you can't help feeling that they are trying to dominate you and that danger is imminent. Really, it's only slightly better than urinating on someone.

On the other hand, coasting riders behave differently at red lights. Instead of trackstanding or circling, they will roll as far into the intersection as they can until some approaching vehicle forces them to stop. Here is a rider resuming pedaling after riding right into and stopping in the middle of the intersection:


What you can't see is his handmade filth prophylactic which jutted from his seat tube nearly vertically. It looked like the erect tail of an animal, and his day-glo windbreaker looked like a deflated neon green mating pouch.

I did however manage to get a shot of this diminutive and slender filth prophylactic, which resembles the pubic landing strip left behind after a Brazilian wax:


Of course, now that the sheltered bike lanes of New York have their own bike-specific traffic signals, cyclists get the opportunity to awkwardly disregard two red lights for the price of one:


Note that the rider closer to me is picking his way through the intersection with one foot on the ground like a novice offroad rider trying to make his way through a rock garden. Really, as much as the idea of a network of bike lanes and traffic lights for New York City's cyclists seems like a good idea, in practice it is only serving as a new venue for stupid riding. These bike lanes are also just large enough to fit a garbage truck, but not large enough to let you pass a garbage truck:

The fact is though that refuse will always need to be collected, and as long as it's placed curbside garbage trucks will always have to stop curbside in order to pick it up. So really, you can't blame them for using the bike lane. Actually, in retrospect, we'd have been a lot better off if the city had created dedicated garbage truck lanes instead of new bike lanes. That way, not only could I just keep riding in traffic like I always have, but I also wouldn't have to deal with all the garbage trucks.

Alas, instead the new bike lanes are a place where the lightest and the heaviest vehicular traffic gets to interact exclusively. It's like keeping your keys and your Freshen Up gum in the same pants pocket; something's going to cause the other to explode in a gooey mess, and the victim isn't going to be the keys. And even if you do get around a giant truck, they'll still come around you and turn in front of you while you wait, forcing you to the curb. Here's one making a right on red and revealing a drycleaning-bearing bike salmon in the distance:


Indeed, bike salmon can be almost as dangerous as trucks. Here's the tragic aftermath of one cyclist's salmon encounter:


If you saw the bike on bike accident tonight on Ave A... - m4w (Lower East Side)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-06-03, 2:49AM EDT

...and picked up a phone, it's the delivery guy's. Please find out where he works, because they owe me a new fork, and possibly a medical bill. He was going the wrong way.

If you have the phone, you get my undying appreciation and I will gladly trade it for a bottle of vodka. A good bottle, not that $10 per handle garbage. I'm no cheapskate.

Actually, if he's looking for accident witnesses, he should probably ask the drivers of large trucks. Many of them have seen a lot, and they can often recount the details of crashes with stunning accuracy.

Yes, life in the bike lane is ugly, and it would appear that our only hope for beautification lies with students of the Fashion Institute of Technology:



Amazingly, a publicist actually deigned to send me a press release about this contest as well:


Furthermore, it included some of the winning sketches:


I'm really "feeling" this Tech-Chic Envelope Bag, which hopefully will be available in a number of "colorways:"


But while the envelope bag would appear to be suited to little else but toting the change of clothes your fashionable cycling garments should obviate the need for, I suppose I could expect much worse from a LVMH x FIT student "collabo." So I extend a hearty congratulations to the winner and I hope she goes on to design many a poncho. I also hope she can reach the Final Fashion Frontier, which is designing a pair of shoes you can actually stand up in:



I had Many Facial Piercings and Platforms You Vintage Bicycle - w4m - 22 (East Village)
Reply to:[deleted]
Date: 2009-05-30, 11:30PM EDT

Friday 6pm ,19th on St Marks,I was 5 foot 10 in heels , Skinny and leggy with long dark hair pulled back in a high bun. I had a septum ring in my nose,several facial piercings, big stretched earlobes and ridiculously high platform wedges on with thigh high black stockings I was having trouble keeping my balance while I waited for my friend. you bicycled by on a old school bike and waved, but that was it, didn't bother to stop, barely got a look at you, then you looked back and kept peddling. Liked your little short denim jacket and tight jeans. You also had a fidel castro like hat and old converse . Remember me?

I guess it can be hard to stand up when you've got that much weight above the neck.

All You Riders Flog My Product: Epics in the Service of Publicity

As cyclists, I think we can all agree that it can sometimes be quite enjoyable to occasionally take a ride that's longer than the ones we usually take. Whether or not you choose to call this ride an "epic" is up to you, but underneath all the evocative language and imagery the fundamental truth is we like to spend time on our bikes. Furthermore, whether you find Rapha's presentation of the "epic" ride seductive or pretentious, I think we can also agree that when it comes to taking long rides the Rapha Continental do it right. No, I don't mean that you need a Richard Sachs frame and a pair of $200 bibs to take a long ride, nor do I mean it needs to be documented in black and white photography and recounted in overwrought prose later. I simply mean that if you're going to spend five or six hours riding on the road and you don't need to carry any clothing or supplies with you, a road bike, a pair of cycling shorts, and a jersey is a pretty good choice.

However, some riders have a different way of approaching the "epic." For them, an "epic" ride isn't pushing themselves and their equipment as far and as hard as possible. Instead, it involves simply using the wrong equipment altogether. One group of riders selling this version of the "epic" is Nabiis, who have undertaken what they call the "Tour de Taiwan," and they're doing it on fixed-gears:








Now you might think that track bicycles equipped with riser bars of the sort normally used by urban cyclists to cover short distances and perform unimpressive tricks would be a bad choice for a longish road ride, and from the looks of their times it seems you'd be right. Here's how they fared on day one:


Please note I've converted the data from pretentious to cumbersome for the convenience of my fellow Americans. As you can see, the Nabiis crew managed to cover a distance of 51 miles in roughly three and a half hours, making their average speed about 15mph. To put this in context, on May 24th Rapha had one of their "Gentlemen's Races" in upstate New York, in which various six-person teams from the region covered a distance of roughly 120 miles. The winning team, Empire, finished in five hours and 28 minutes. The last place team, HUP United, finished in eight hours and 15 minutes complete with a rider who had never ridden over 100 miles before.

So what does this mean? Well, given the fact that HUP averaged about the same speed as the Nabiis riders over some significant climbs for well over twice the distance, it means that Nabiis might want to consider rethinking their choice of bicycle. Sure, I realize Nabiis aren't necessarily racing or even trying to finish quickly, but if that's the case why are they posting finishing times and riding with a follow car? Even the Rapha riders don't have support. The only conclusion I can draw is that they're trying to prove that hipster bikes make pretty bad road bikes, and in that respect they've succeeded admirably. Either that, or they don't want to tire themselves out for the post-stage stunting sessions:

In that respect though, I suppose doing a half-assed road ride and then doing some half-assed tricks all in the same day and on a bicycle ill-suited to both could be considered "epic."

Speaking of riser bars, the latest reason I've been hearing often for using them on fixed-gears (besides freestyling) is that they let you see over traffic. This is ridiculous. Firstly, people drive enormous cars these days, and unless you live in a town where everybody drives a DeLorean there's no way you're seeing over traffic unless you're riding a tall bike--and that's to say nothing of all the vans, trucks, and buses. If a high vantage point made a better city bike then we'd all still be riding p-fars. Secondly, even if you could see over traffic, why would you want to? When you ride in the city the most important thing by what's happening a few feet in front of you, particularly with regard to the road surface. It's no good craning your neck to see what's happening down the block if you're going to ride right into a pothole or a storm grate. Plus, you don't need to see over the cars, you need to see between them. You're riding through traffic, not over it. Then again, when you've got no brakes and it takes you half a block to stop, I guess you need to see as far down the street as possible. Maybe Soma can make an urban periscope. In fact, the reason you can't see over traffic is because everyone's driving SUVs so they can see over traffic, and you can see how well that turned out for everybody.

Of course, well before Nabiis set out on the "Tour de Taiwan," MASH already proved that track bikes make bad road bikes by riding the Tour of California stages on them:

Yes, the track bike is beautifully simple, but sometimes simplicity is complexity--especially when you need to stop yourself with your foot on a descent after dropping your chain. Actually, in this case, simplicity has leapfrogged over complexity and gone right to absurdity.

Furthermore, MASH seem to be positioning themselves as the fixed-gear Rapha. Just take a look at the copy for this "epic"-themed t-shirt:


One of the most beautiful moments in cycling is when riders are climbing up a mountain pass with their explosive energy and descending down to a valley floor with equally explosive power. There is a sense of sublime that bring us closer to the most primal part of nature within us. For this shirt, I wanted to create a single-minded design that captures this sense of sublime and to commemorate their incredible effort that went into riding the Tour of California by MASH riders on their fixed gear bikes this Spring. It was an epic attempt to provide all of us with much needed courage and possibilities to live our lives with beauty and simplicity.

Wow, that's a lot of words for picture of a mountain with an explosion on the top. Actually, my understanding of successful road riding is that you're not supposed to blow up on the climb. Being able to downshift on the ascent and upshift on the descent instead of stomping up one side and frantically spinning down the other can go a long way towards preventing this from happening. Throw a couple of brakes into the bargain and you won't even have to peform a "foot jam" if something goes wrong.

Even those "Albion in the Gloaming" guys are palping derailleurs on their own iteration of the "epic." As you can see from their site, they're well under way, and they don't seem to be rubbing the bikes from the bird-miming video:



While I'm pleased to see they seem to be riding relatively sensible bikes, I hope they realize doing so is not a good way to get attention--especially if they want to sell something. That's why I'm planning my own publicity-seeking "epic," in which I'm going to ride across the country on a singlespeed mountain bike. 50 gear inches, 30psi, and absolutely no point.

Epic-curious: Riding Long and Hard

As I posted yesterday, this past weekend I took the winner of the Fat Cyclist contest on a typical New York area road ride. However, while it was both typical and enjoyable, it was by no means "epic." Frankly, as a mediocre cyclist in all respects I don't possess the necessary passion, fortitude, and effortless style to lead an "epic" road ride. For that matter, I don't possess the proper clothing either. Sure, I once thought I had all these things, but then I read about the Rapha Continental:

Here is how Rapha define an "epic" ride:

No formula exists for epic. It happens when the right conditions are present and it cannot be manufactured. Mental, physical and emotional stress are all components as is suffering, which in the case of cycling, usually means extended periods of self-inflicted pain. Exposure, distance, duration, elevation, great camaraderie, road surfaces, waning sanity, exhaustion, rapidly fading sunlight, weather, empty pockets and broken chains. And competition both healthy and not so healthy are all likely a part of any epic ride. Epic is essentially the result of a series of intense experiences and hard riding.

I like easy-to-follow formulas, so I was disappointed to learn that I cannot employ one to have an "epic." Even though "mental, physical and emotional stress" are important components, as is "self-inflicted pain," these things alone cannot make your ride "epic." I know this because I recently thought really hard about the dire state of the economy while reminiscing about childhood traumas and administering a "purple nurple" to myself during a ride in Prospect Park, and while highly unpleasant, the ride was far from "epic."

Further proof of my intrinsic lack of "epicness" is my experience at the Runcible Spoon. When Rapha visits the Runcible Spoon on an "epic," everything is all sepia and "epicy:"


When I go, it looks like this and I get served a hairy muffin:


But does this mean I lack soul and "epictude," or do I simply lack epic photography skills? Is there really such a thing as a serendipitous state of cycling perfection--a narcotic cocktail of pleasure and pain called an "epic?" Or is there simply a calculated state of visual cycling perfection--an opiate haze of seductive images and words called "epic roadie marketing?" Is it possible to experience this blissful state by riding with the Rapha Continental team-that-is-not-a-team who shave their legs in cold mountain streams and who poke at their deadened muscles with pins to elicit the last few spasms and twitches that will get them over that final, nearly insurmountable 19% climb at mile 135? Or do they just want me to buy some shorts?

I don't know, but whether it's reality or illusion or some combination thereof there are few other cycling companies that could get away with it--although I'd love to see them try. One such company who might want to consider taking a shot at marketing the "epic" is Primal Wear, makers of novelty cycling apparel such as the "Crankkin' Stein" jersey:


Primal Wear are often criticized for their outrageous, tasteless, and arguably hideous graphics. However, I think they should be applauded for having the courage to produce a jersey like this one that empowers Jewish cyclists. I'm not sure what the "Crankkin' Stein" jersey says on the back, but I'm guessing it's something like "Crankkin' Stein Cranks, but Never on Shabbos."

In my ongoing efforts to jump the shark, Primal Wear represents to me the great white. Sure, I may have a column in Bicycling, but that's just hopping over a baby nurse shark on a Razr scooter compared to my actual goal, which is designing Primal Wear jerseys. To that end, I've been working on some concepts, which I'm pleased to share with you here in rudimentary sketch form:



Primal wear have demonstrated a fondness for sexually suggestive double entendre in the past, so I'm hoping this "Derailleur?!? Damn near killed her!!!" design (complete with long-cage Sora rear derailleur) appeals to them as well. Obviously it needs some heavy airbrushing, but you get the idea.


If that's too subtle for them, maybe they'll go for this "I've Got a Compact Crank" design. Because it's not the size of your chainrings; it's how you spin them.


But Primal isn't only about bad puns. It's also about references to popular culture. That's why I think this homage to Charlie Sheen's epic hair in the 1989 baseball comedy "Major League" will be a home run.

But as Rapha has proven, it's not just about showing the clothes; it's also about showing what you can do in the clothes. (And I don't mean relieving yourself in them during a triathlon.) This is why Primal also need to market their version of the "epic" by putting together a group of riders who embody the Primal spirit. This group would be called the "Primal Continental" and they would participate in charity rides across North America. Of course, they'll also need bikes. Rapha Continental has tapped the country's most respected framebuilders to construct for them some of the most pretentious bikes ever made:


Likewise, Primal Continental would have access to the finest bicycles that Performance has to offer:

Plastic, stamped steel, and aluminum play indifferently, ride sufficiently, and look acceptable together. This bike would also look great in front of the Runcible Spoon--as photographed by me, not by Rapha--during a hairy muffin stop on a Primal "epic." Actually, I wonder if Primal would be interested in making "hairy muffin" jerseys. That would be epic.

In the meantime, though, I still can't help but feel inadequately "epic" most of the time. Not only do I have a hard time getting the rarefied blend of leather, carbon, camaraderie, and self-inflicted pain just right, but I also don't have that much time. Sadly, the best I can do most days is try to make my commute "epic." Fortunately, I often succeed--as long as your definition of an "epic" commute includes the words "infuriating" and "miserable." If an epic road ride involves steep climbs, gravel roads, road rash, mechanical mishaps and inclement weather, then an epic commute includes something like this:



Not only is this car disgorging an oblivious passenger on a cell phone right in the middle of the bike lane:


But it turns out the door was also hiding an oncoming bike-salmoning "Beautiful Godzilla."

Even more irritating than the Rapidly-Appearing Bike Salmon (RABS) are the Rollerbladers, whom I've been encountering in the bike lane with increasing frequency:


I wonder if it's possible to do an "epic" Rollerblade ride:

It seems more "meh-pic" to me.