Bike Snob NYC

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Speedy Delivery: Brake-Fast of Champions

This past Saturday was October 9th, and I observed the date as I always do: by throwing a Vrouw Maria theme party and reenacting the unfortunate sinking of this Dutch cargo ship off the coast of Finland. It's hard to believe it's been 239 years since the Vrouw Maria went down, since I remember the sinking as though it were yesterday, having lost nearly a hundredweight of indigo pigments from the Far East. (A "hundredweight" is an old-timey unit of weight measurement roughly equivalent to a modern "shit-ton.") With this indigo I had intended to dye a limited run of Dutch East India Company "collabo" tri-corner hats for velocipedists, but alas, my hopes were dashed in the icy waters and consigned to Davy Jones's panniers on that fateful day.

In any case, amid all this reminiscing I completely forgot that October 9th was also "Messenger Appreciation Day:"

I remembered it today with the same jolt of surprise and embarrassment with which you realize you missed your cats' anniversary. (I marry all my pets since I don't believe they should be allowed to cohabitate in sin.) After all, I appreciate messengers profoundly, and Messenger Appreciation Day is my favorite of all the holidays commemorating obsolete professionals. Cooper Appreciation Day, Milkman Appreciation Day, Bloodletter's Appreciation Day--none of these is nearly as auspicious to me as the day on which we celebrate the people who deliver documents in designer bags for money. (Though I do always take advantage of those fantastic Bloodletter's Appreciation Day leeching discounts, and I sometimes even affix a leech to each knee when I ride, which is a totally "old skool" trick known as "medieval knee warmers.")

I will however say in my defense that, while I may have forgotten Messenger Appreciation Day, it did fall on a Saturday this year. It's hard to observe Messenger Appreciation Day on Saturday, since most messengers take the weekends off from their rigorous schedule of riding around the city while stoned in order to relax and ride around the city while stoned. Also, the messengers seem to be doing a fine job of appreciating themselves. In fact, despite their obsolescence--or perhaps because of it--messengers appear to have plenty of time and resources to travel around the world and celebrate their lifestyle. Just like cyclocross has overtaken road and triathlon as the most extravagant form of amateur cyclesport, so too have messengers overtaken professional bike racers when it comes to international jet-setting, and it seems like scarcely a week goes by that messengers from around the world are not converging on some exotic parcours and pretending to work. (Or, more accurately, pretending to pretend to work.) For example, as most people are aware, last month the Cycle Messenger World Championships took place in Guatemala:

2010 Cycle Messenger World Championships from Connor Boals on Vimeo.

By all accounts, Guatemalans were amazed to witness "lifestyle employment" in action, since it is something that does not exist in their culture. (Instead, they tend to "work," which has largely fallen out of favor in the United States and Europe and which involves offering necessary goods and services in exchange for money.) Here is one messenger showing young Guatemalans that, in cosmopolitan cities, "cool people" always have the right of way on the sidewalk:

("Heads up!," shouts a messenger to a child, not wanting to damage his high-end racing wheelset on the cobblestones.)

Of course, the idea of events like the CMWC is to simulate a messenger's working day. For example, the "backwards circles" competition is based on the way messengers will ride really fast backwards in order to reverse time when a package is late:

The "trackstand competition" replicates those moments when a messenger must answer his shoe phone without dismounting:

And the myriad checkpoints replicate the package drop-offs messengers must make in order to earn money for tattoo time:

But while the CMWC was a success, it was not without its complications. For example, according to the race director, "The streets that we were told would be ours we had to share with the 'tuk-tuks' [and] trucks hauling sand out from the side of the lake:"

I would certainly agree that those Guatemalans have a lot of audacity to be getting in the way of a bunch of cyclists pretending to deliver fake packages while they do frivolous things like going about their everyday lives and protecting their towns from flooding. This is precisely the kind of "me first" attitude that's going to take them out of the running as a venue for the CMWC 2011, which will cost the local economy literally dozens of American dollars in Gallo beer and weed revenue.

Still, few accomplishments in cyclesport are as glorious as winning the CMWC, and just as the UCI road racing world champion gets to wear the coveted rainbow jersey for a year, the Cycle Courier World Champion gets to sport the CMWC Red Beard of Glory:

(This rider was duly ~~crowned~~ bearded the Cycle Messenger World Champion after pretending to deliver packages the fastest.)

Though, like the rainbow stripes, there are some messengers who wear this beard entirely as a fashion statement:

Then, after returning to "work" for a couple of days, North American messengers traveled once again--this time to Atlanta, GA for the North American Cycle Courier Championships, or NACCC:

In addition to pretending to deliver packages, competitors also engaged in "fixed-gear freestyle" as well as "bike culture Hacky Sack" (also sometimes referred to as "Bike Polo"):

But messenger competitions aren't just big bike races--they're also part trade show, and they afford messengers from different cities an opportunity to share "tricks of the trade." For example, while most American messengers "portage" their loads on their backs, messengers from Canada prefer to carry them in the front:

(Messenger demonstrates the "Marsupial Portaging Technique" so popular in the Great White North.)

This does tend to compromise the rider's visibility somewhat, which is why if you employ it you should always wear a pair of "Canadian Oakleys:"

By the way, rumor has it that a group of messengers en route to the NACCC accidentally wound up at the NACC, or North American Christian Convention:

Apparently the misguided messengers never even noticed, and they reported that Francis Chan totally "killed it" in the "Poetry Slam:"

("My burden is the suffering of Jesus, and no Chrome bag is big enough to carry it.")

Chan is now the heavy favorite for next year's European Cycle Messenger Championship, held last year in Budapest but moving next year to a Sandals resort in St. Lucia which will be offering a special all-inclusive messenger group rate:

At any rate, as of 2010, there are now officially more messenger championships than there are actual working messengers.

Speaking of smugness, a reader has informed me of this "car-shaped bike rack," which fits 15 bicycles in a space that would otherwise be occupied by a single car:

I'm not sure why this is supposed to be impressive. First of all, who would want to park their bicycle in the street between two cars? If you've ever watched the average person attempt to parallel park a car, you know they go about it like an impotent man trying to consummate a marriage--they stab and stab at the space repeatedly without managing to get it in. Then, assuming they don't give up and drive away, they hit the surrounding cars like a cue ball on a bumper pool table. If this rack were to be installed in New York City all 15 of those bikes would be scrap metal by the end of the day.

Secondly, while I realize this is supposed to be some sort of commentary on the spatial efficiency of the bicycle, is this really a revelation? Bicycles are smaller than passenger jets too--maybe someone should design a 2,000-bicycle rack in the shape of a plane that they can install in a hanger out at the airport? And why even limit it to vehicles? Why not a bicycle rack in the shape of a mailbox, or a shawarma cart, or a newsstand, or an Old Navy? Or, they could just keep putting those perfectly useful u-shaped racks on the sidewalk, though I suppose that wouldn't be smug or "David Byrne-y" enough. In a way, locking your bicycle to one of David Byrne's "brain farts" is almost as embarrassing as getting mugged by someone in a chicken suit:

By the way, while I do often cycle in a chicken suit, I can account for my whereabouts at the time. Even if I can't, I'll just say I was at some sort of messenger championship, since I'm sure there was one going on somewhere when the theft occurred.

Finally, I should remind you that you have two more days to submit a photograph for "Cockie" consideration, but keep in mind that you will have to compete with the likes of the new Apple "iCockie," spotted in Brooklyn:

As you can see, it acts as a fairing to protect the rider's stuffed menagerie:

Together with the desk lamps and the motorcycle light bar, this one is going to be tough to beat.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Be-holed the Future: The Revolution Will Be Saddle-less

As any student of history knows, the bicycle is a machine that has been improving since its inception. First invented in approximately the 7th century BC, the bicycle immediately revolutionized human interaction--though these first bicycles had four wheels instead of two, and they placed more emphasis on hurling deadly projectiles than on simple, lightweight transport:

In fact, humankind was so captivated by the bicycle and its object-hurling capability that they began flinging things competitively. These loosely-organized competitions were called "wars," and they were the precursors to what we now know as "alleycats." However, humanity soon lost interest in "wars," which is why they are no longer fought today. Instead, to address the shifting interests of a fickle marketplace, bicycle manufacturers began to refine the bicycle's utility as a form of transportation, and by the 15th century AD the bicycle looked like this:

As you can see, in addition to abandoning what was technically called the "spoony flingy thing," bicycle manufacturers also moved from four wheels to zero. This was because something like two-thirds of the Earth's then-flat surface was covered with water, whereas the only road in existence at that time was the Great Silk Road from Europe to Asia, and it didn't even have any bike lanes on it. While this wheel-less bicycle was hugely successful and allowed riders to travel to and subjugate new continents, its main drawback was that it was incredibly difficult to "portage" up stairs and into apartments and early loft spaces--though the first fixed-gears were slightly more maneuverable:

But it would be another 400 years until the Earth adopted its current "round" shapeway and the bicycle industry "dropped" the two-wheeled "safety bicycle" design we all know and ride today (at least those of us who don't ride those freaky recumbents). Furthermore, it would be least a century from the advent of those first late-19th century "safety bicycles" to the moment the design was perfected and bicycle manufacturing reached its absolute, indisputable, awe-inspiring zenith:

Since then, it's all been "Gilding the Lily*."

*"Gilding the Lily" © 2010 Specialized Bicycle Components

For this reason, truly visionary designers know it's futile to try to improve the "safety bicycle," and instead they've been working on machines that will revolutionize cycling once again and do to the "safety bicycle" what the "safety bicycle" did to the "pennyfarthing." In recent years, we've seen a number of sublime attempts. There's the Mogo scooter:

(Note "epic" lamppost footplant.)

The ElliptiGO:

(ElliptiGO is the bicycle of choice for the man of ample bosom.)

And of course the "aerotrike:"

But as brilliant as each of these design am, none of they has the potential to consign the "safety bicycle" to the Graveyard of Idiotic Transport along with the riding dinosaur, the personal cannon, and the Pontiac Aztek--that is, until the Dreamslide was invented:

I was alerted to the Dreamslide by a fellow "Tweeterer" and I have no doubt that stomach-turning Euro-cheese soundtrack of the video is nothing less than the death knell of the now-obsolete "safety bicycle." This is because it has what those other designs lack. Consider the Mogo, for example. Sure, you can slay a sweet footplant off a lamppost, but can you use it for cyclocross? Or consider the ElliptiGO. While your male breasts may jiggle seductively as you ride along the coast, can you also descend on it like Paolo Savoldelli? (Or, more accurately, like Paolo Savoldelli's career?) Of course not. But you can do all of these things--and more!--on a Dreamslide. You can "throw down" in the town square:

And you can "hill bomb" in the countryside:

It even comes equipped with a Powercrank-like drivetrain to appeal to the "riding a bike isn't supposed to be fun" roadie set:

Plus, it's a "chick and/or dude magnet:"

But can you "portage" it and use it for Cyclocross 2.0 along with your tent and your chairs and your cooking equipment and your massage stick and your fragrant unguents and your pressure washer (which you'll need to cleanse your undercarriage of those unguents)? Of course you can:

Best of all, remounts are a breeze since there's no overshooting your inner thigh and landing right on your "pants yabbies" or "vaginae." Instead, you just run right up behind it and mount it like a mating dachshund:

Plus, would you put on a suit and ride your cyclocross bike to the opera? Of course not--but you can do it on the Dreamslide:

You can also use it to terrorize pedestrians:

Even the "fixie" crews will love the Dreamside, since it's great for blasting through intersections on video:

I predict that the next North American Handmade Bicycle Show will consist mostly of handmade artisanal Dreamslides, and that by Interbike 2012 all the manufacturers will have copied them and begun to offer at least one Dreamslide in their line-ups. Indeed, with the bicycle about to be completely revolutionized, it's a shame we don't have a revolutionary new road infrastructure to match--especially here in New York City, where you're fortunate to complete a ride without plummeting into a pothole and being eaten alive by Morlocs:

I have plied the thoroughfares of New York at the helm of all sorts of vehicles over the years--automobiles, bicycles, motorcycles, sedan chairs--and all of them (with the exception of the sedan chair) have at one time or another sustained some sort of damage due to the dire condition of the bombed airstrips which the city has the temerity to label with names or numbers and call "streets." In fact, I'd have switched exclusively to sedan chairs long ago if I didn't think that eventually one of my footmen would step into a pothole and wrench an ankle, and I saw on Fox news once that under "Obamacare" injured footmen must appear before some sort of "death panel" for euthanization. Not only do I not want that on my conscience, but I also don't want to go through the interminable hassle of hiring another footman on Craigslist.

Honestly, it's enough to drive me to move to Portland, where not only are the streets in far better repair, but there's even bicycle-themed temporary lodging:

Personally, I prefer staying in non-cycling-themed hotels because I take perverse pleasure in rolling my filthy bicycle through carpeted lobbies and into elevators where it tends to frighten and disgust tourists. However, the proprietor of this particular establishment has clearly realized that he can take advantage of the thousands of carpetbagging (does Chrome make carpetbags?) would-be framebuilders who arrive in Portland daily like starry-eyed Midwesterners coming to Hollywood in order to be in "the pictures:"

In addition to random guests that find him on the Web, Chris is also listed on UBI's website as a housing option for their bike school students (who get a discount on their stay).

He's also looking to take the logical next step and market his guest house to the people who come to Portland in order to be fawned upon and measured for their artisanal bicycles:

Chris says he is also looking to partner with local custom bike builders as a place for their customers to stay. "If you're getting a custom bike built, you should really come to Portland and take the time to get fit and meet the builder."

I wonder if he offers a flat five-year rate for the people on Sacha White's "epic" Vanilla waitlist.

Of course, no custom bicycle is complete without a "Stemie"--or, if you prefer, its organic rodent pelt equivalent, spotted by a reader in Woodstock, NY and submitted for "Cockie" consideration:

I guess you'd call that a "Squirrely:"

Though the revolutionary new design of the Dreamslide will sadly render dead squirrel stem pads obsolete.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Social Issues: Peering into the Future

In today's fast-paced, redundant, and fast-paced world, a morning routine can be both grounding and edifying. (If you don't currently have a morning routine and are interested in establishing one, click here to see the "gold standard.") Still, even if you start each day with ruthless precision, the fact is that no two mornings are exactly alike. For example, while I may collect my eggs from the henhouse at the exactly same time every morning (apiaries are already out of style and urban henhouses are now all the rage in Brooklyn), sometimes I do so while whistling a happy egg-collecting folk song, and sometimes I do so while lamenting the dire state of society and the world. In the latter case, sometime between collecting the eggs and hurling them at passing cars (I don't actually eat them) I will usually resolve to dedicate myself to some sort of humanitarian cause--though fortunately the feeling usually passess by the time Judge Judy comes on the air.

While worshippers of lesser gods call this attitude "apathy," I worship the One True God, the Almighty Lobster on High, Who simmers benevolently in a cosmic pot and Who determines the course of human history with but a twitch of His or Her antennae. My God is as efficient as He or She is delicious, and while the lesser gods put forth as many as ten commandments, the Almighty Lobster on High (and on a medium flame) bids I follow but One Commehndment:

--Do Not Do What, If Left Undone, Others Will Do For You.

I follow this Commehndment steadfastly in all aspects of life, especially when it comes to acts of charity (or, more accurately, shirking acts of charity.) Consider the parable of the Good Samaritan. What does it mean if not that, if someone lies beaten and bloodied by the side of the road for long enough, someone else will eventually come along and take care of him? Why then should I--a person with no medical training and important vehicular eggings to attend to--stop and molest him with my ministrations when a perfectly capable Samaritan will be along at any moment? Moreover, would not my meddling deprive this Samaritan of an opportunity to flex his smugness, follow his tedious commandments, and please his lesser god? Cynics may dismiss my religious beliefs as "diffusion of responsibility," but I prefer to call it "curation of duty."

I also apply this Commehndment to solving pressing "social issues," and when it comes to "social issues" perhaps none is more pressing than the problem of not enough "hipsters" riding around on bicycles in gentrified urban neighborhoods. Fortunately though, a reader informs me that a group of "hipster Samaritans" (Samaria was the Williamsbug, Brooklyn of Biblical times) is meeting the problem head-on, like a bike salmon meeting a city bus:

Pilot Round Wrapup from Yoxi on Vimeo.

So how do "hipsters" solve "social issues?" With Apple products, of course:

And by belittling people by drawing "boom boxes" on their handlebars and cupcakes on their heads:

Yes, these are the methods employed by the "Urban Futurists:"

A three-man gentrification strike force who moved to New York City yesterday and are re-designing it today, and who are "compelled by a holistic understanding of what social responsibility can be:"

They're combining the awesome transformative power of peer pressure and iPhone "apps" to change the entire fabric of the city to reflect their own "hipster" ideals:

Bike Tab from Urban Futurists on Vimeo.

Really, modern "hipster" culture is simply a combination of peer pressure and iPhone "apps," in the same way that water is hydrogen and oxygen or the road bike industry is Taiwanese crabon and decals. In this case, what the "Urban Futurists" have done is created an iPhone "app" that uses peer pressure to trick other "hipsters" into doing something the rest of us do simply because we like it, which is riding bikes. For example, when the guy from the video in the stripey shirt that looks like a baby onesie rides his expensive bike to buy a cup of expensive coffee, he sends out a message to all of his friends which somehow makes them feel inadequate for not riding their own expensive bikes in order to procure and consume expensive coffee. It also lets them know that when they do ride their expensive bikes to the coffee shop he will be there, which ultimately spares all of them the pain and embarrassment of being alone--the avoidance of being alone or different being the ultimate goal of "hipsterism."

Plus, the video even shows you the proper way to ride an expensive bike to buy expensive coffee:

First, lean your expensive bike against a pole. Then, leave your U-lock in your pocket and walk into the store. Most importantly, do so in full view of a shifty bedraggled layabout resting a coffee on his crotch and already teetering on the moral fence that separates the unemployed "hipster" from the opportunistic criminal. Then, when you go back outside and find your bike gone, return to the coffee house, withdraw your Apple computer from your rainbow messenger bag, log onto the coffee shop's free WiFi, and pen an anguished Craigslist post about your stolen bicycle. (Be sure to blame New York City for not providing you with enough secure bike parking.)

But peer pressure-induced urban cycling isn't just about riding to coffee houses; it's also about riding to bars. The video provides an instructional for this as well, and it's pretty much the same approach:

While I don't doubt that peer pressure will get more "hipsters" cycling, I also can't help suspecting that, by taunting the lazy and unemployed with their exotic bicycles and poor locking practices, the "Urban Futurists" are also unwittingly creating an entirely new liberal arts college-educated criminal bike theft underclass.

Anyway, here's how cycling peer pressure looks on your iPhone:

Or, if you download the optional de-euphemismizer "app:"

Yes, by combining the "high-tech" (iPhone "apps") with the "traditional" (the age-old human desire to wear stripey shirts and conform) the Urban Futurists are establishing themselves as an army of Meh-nifest Destiny helping to transform all of America (or, if you prefer, Canada's rooster wattle) into one giant gentrified megalopolis that stretches from Williamsburg to the Mission District. Speaking of marrying the "high-tech" to the "traditional" and the nightmarish offspring that can result, another reader alerted me to this bicycle on the Brooks website:

There's just something tragic about a bicycle that's been forced into a role it was never meant to play. There's nothing wrong with crabon race bikes, and there's nothing wrong with Rivendell-style fop chariots, but when you turn a crabon race bike into a fop chariot it's a disgrace to both. This bike simply does not want to be a fendered upright tourer, and the result is simultaneously humorous and pathetic. It's the bicycle equivalent of one of those Christian "ex-gay" counsellors pathetically straining against the forces of his own sexuality.

On the other hand, there is nothing more inspiring than a person or a bicycle who is exuberantly him-, her-, or itself, such as the bicycle featured in this mind-boggling "Cockie" submission:

Besides a set of handlebars that bears a striking resemblance to Pee-Wee Herman's breakfast machine, it even features a frontal kickstand. And like Pee-Wee's morning routine, it could very well be a cockpit "gold standard"--though this basket is also a contender:

It's the goose that laid the golden bike.

Friday, October 8, 2010

BSNYC Friday Fondue Party!

("This Is F***ing Urgent," photographed by a reader)

As you are almost certainly aware, the First Annual BSNYC/RTMS Cockpit of the Year Award is in full swing, and like Alberto Contador gorging himself on a succulent steak during a Tour de France rest day I may have bitten off considerably more than I can chew. There's simply no polite way to put this: I'm up to my neck in "Cockie." Indeed, it seems like every time I check my email another submission pops up as if to say, "Boo! Cockie!" In fact, if I had a "Vegan" chin tattoo, you probably wouldn't even be able to read it:

Though you'd still be able to see my multiple septum piercings.

Now, an email inbox full of "Cockie" wouldn't be such a problem in itself if the vast majority of submissions were of poor quality. However, the simple truth is that almost all the "Cockie" photos I have received have been profoundly engrossing. Just to give you an idea of how difficult "curating" this contest has been so far, just dipping my ladle into this bowl of hot "Cockie" more or less at random yields compelling entries such as this pair of apehangers complete with bar ends and complemented by the ultra-rare banana-seat-and-suspension-fork combo:

This incredible PVC-and-hose-clamp setup:

This "Jacob's Ladder" spotted in Salt Lake City:

This ornithologist's delight spotted in Florida:

And this totally "murdered out" department store mountain bike, noteworthy for its elegant minimalism:

In the meantime, while I'm coping with "Cockie," I invite the rest of you to partake in a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right, well, that's just fantastic, and if you're wrong you'll see "The Coffee Wars."

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and may your hands find secure purchase on your cockpit.

--BSNYC/RTMS