The Salmon Defense: Against the Current, Down the River

As you may have read elsewhere on the "World (except for Saudi Arabia, Burma, China, North Korea, Cuba, Egypt, Iran, Uzbekistan, Syria, Tunisia, Turkmenistan, and Vietnam) Wide Web" (or WEFSABCNKCEIUSTTVWW for short) by now, the Wall Street Journal has officially run out of legitimate news and was consequently forced to publish an article about my "identity." This marks a first for me, since while I often appear in the Journal it's usually because I've engineered yet another ruthless corporate takeover, so this was a refreshing change of pace. You can read the full article here, and it looks like this:

Besides revealing my actual name (which, incidentally, is "Ace" Brophy as many have speculated) the article also includes a salacious full frontal cockpit shot:

Seeing my painstakingly reconstructed cockpit in a widely read publication was a triumphant moment for me, coming mere weeks after the prior iteration of my cockpit was ruthlessly abducted on the mean streets of Greenwich Village and right in front of a public library. Also, I even got mentioned on the local news by the Canadian guy who reads the newspapers to us every morning (I believe in Canada this is what's called a "shout-oot"), though unfortunately he mispronounced my first name. (How you can mispronounce "Ace" I don't know, though I suppose the fact that he's Canadian might have something to do with it.)

Anyway, I want to thank Jason Gay for taking the time to write a kind article about me, the people quoted therein for taking the time to talk to him, and the Wall Street Journal for deigning to publish it. I also want to un-thank and revile the Wall Street Journal's rival newspaper, which got wind of the article just before publication and attempted to execute a last-minute "cockblocking" maneuver yesterday wherein they ran some half-assed piece of their own. Most of all, though, I want to thank everybody for reading so far, and for hopefully continuing to do so. Obviously, in a few days I will reinvent myself and switch the focus of this blog entirely to gardening, but until then I remain,

Very truly yours,

Moving on to far more important matters, while the mainstream media was busy "outing" some low-ranking member of the "doucherati," a high-ranking judge made a landmark legal decision that may very well negatively impact the world of cycling forever. So significant is this decision that it makes the whole New York City Critical Mass parade rule thing look about as important as the "Fixie Crew's" decision to buy cockles at Whole Foods. I am referring to a case that recently aired on the television show "Judge Judy" ("Judge Judy" is the Supreme Court of the eating-Cheetos-on-the-sofa-all-day set) in which a driver (the Plaintiff) is suing a cyclist (the Defendant) for running into his car:

As it happens, this video was actually forwarded to me by a friend of the Defendant, and I watched it with interest. Here's the Plaintiff, a 23 year-old named Justin Stern, who claims a cyclist hit his car and whose spectacles-and-no-tie ensemble marks him as a "doucherati" aspirant:

And here's the Defendent, the 20 year-old and mellifluously-named Clark Harney, decked out in formal beige for the occasion:

Anyway, at first it seems that this is going to be just another case, but then Harney does something that will soon change the world of cycling irrevocably: He blames the collision on the fact that he was forced to take evasive action when he encountered a "salmon" in the bike lane. Here is Harney's digital (that's "digital" as in finger-based) reenactment:

And here is the actual "salmon" that Harney is attempting to finger:

(Indignant salmon does not find Harney's fingering pleasurable)

To my knowledge, this is the first time that somebody has attempted to invoke the so-called "Salmon Defense" in such an auspicious venue, and such a defense is sort of like a CO2 inflator in that you'd better be sure everything is air-tight before you use it or else it's a total waste. Sadly, Harney's case is not air-tight, and the CO2 cartridge of his defense instead explodes in a burst of gas and careens wildly about the court. Here's Judge Judy gesticulating dismissively with her thumb:

Here's a nonplussed Harney, whose caption has been downgraded from "Bike Rider" to "Admits he couldn't see what was coming:"

And here's the salmon again, looking shifty, scheming, and untrustworthy like all her kind:

In the end, Judge Judy rules that Harney must pay Stern a whopping $1,900 to cover the repairs to his car, which prompts me to wonder what kind of damage a diminutive-looking fellow like Harney could have possibly inflicted on a big hunk of metal. It seems to me you'd have to be riding a Surly Pugsley (complete with handlebar-mounted battering ram) at Mark Cavendish-like speeds to break the $1,000 barrier, and I doubt very much that Harney can unleash a sprint anything close to that of the "Man Missile." But while I smell corruption (as well as a hint of salmon) I am more concerned about the fact that Harney has effectively squandered the "Salmon Defense." Had he argued his case more effectively and the judge ruled in his favor, a legal precedent would have been set and the rest of us could successfully blame everything on salmon too and they'd become our all-purpose legal scapegoats (or scapefish). Instead, thanks to Harney's hapless finger gestures, we now can't use the "Salmon Defense" at all. I guess we'll just have to blame everything on Rollerbladers now.

Meanwhile, no sooner had I recovered from this miscarriage of justice than I learned that scientists have discovered a new breed of human beings who can drive and talk on the phone simultaneously:

Apparently, these preternatural multitaskers are called "supertaskers," and they're real-life superheroes who can perform incredible acts of schmuckery like placing calls while driving and accepting calls while driving. Unfortunately, even though "supertaskers" only make up 2.5% of the population, the remaining 97.5% of the population will now also conclude that they are "supertaskers" and, like that guy with the yogurt franchises, continue to drive around endangering the rest of us. First, salmon are allowed to run with impunity; next, you get hit by some yogurt slinger on his cellphone who taps a bevy of "experts" to testify in court that he's a medically certified "supertasker" and that he was not responsible for crushing your hopes, dreams, and bones into so much walnut topping.

But there is still hope for cyclists, and fortunately, famously car-centric Los Angeles is continuing to become more bike-friendly. First, the LAPD Chief declared his commitment to protecting cyclists. Then, the city entered into the embarrassingly ebullient "demeaning yourself" phase of its cycling evolution by playing host to a "Tweed Ride," as forwarded to me by a reader:



If you're unfamiliar with the concept of the "Tweed Ride," it's basically when a bunch of people ride their bicycles around a city while dressed as Victorians. Here's one "Faketorian" drinking from a period-correct paper cup:

Here's another piloting what appears to be a Giant Revive:

His fellow "Faketorians" call him "Captain Anachronism."

So amid all this faux-gentility, one might be tempted to ask, "Whither street cred?" Well, here it is, and it can be yours, thanks to this Craigslist ad forwarded to me by another reader:

This bike is apparently all you need to be the "Fixie King:"


It's also got a lengthy, formidable, and borderline "epic" pedigree:

MAKE ME AN OFFER FIXIE KID.

IM FRICKIN OVER IT, BUDDY, AND SO NOW IS YOUR CHANCE. EVERYONE WANTS THIS BIKE AND IF THE MONEYS RIGHT ITS YOURS.
MY MESSENGER PALS HAVE OFFERED ME BIG BUCKS COUNTLESS TIMES FOR THIS THING AND IVE ALWAYS TURNED EM DOWN, BUT I NO LONGER GIVE A RATS ASS ABOUT TRACK BIKES.
SCORE FOR YOU, YOU TIGHT PANTS ELECTRO SHOW PBR CHUGGING GIRLS HAIRCUT COKE SNORTER.

THIS BIKE HAS BEEN RACED ALL OVER THIS FREAKIN PLANET AND WON MORE CRAP THAN I'LL EVER BE ABLE TO GET RID OF. IT BEAT THE FASTEST MESSENGER IN NEW YORK (THATS RIGHT ROOKIE, IM TALKIN ABOUT FELIPE. LEARN IT. LIVE IT. KNOW IT.) IN THE FOURTH OF JULY SPRINTS AND HE WAS ON ACID AND I WAS JUST DRUNK SO THERE YA GO, COOL GUY, ITS FAST.

RIDDEN IN THE WARRIORS RACE, NYC., WINNER, BEST COLORS.

RIDDEN IN HALLOWEEN ALLEYCAT THROWN BY SQUID, NYC. TOOK MUSHROOMS, PUKED. GOT PART OF MY COSTUME IN A QUEENS BOULEVARD HOOKERS' MOUTH.

RIDDEN IN KYOTOLOCO. WINNER, TRACKSTAND. WINNER, FREESTYLE, WINNER, FOOTDOWN. WINNER, BEST OUT OF TOWN.

RIDDEN NACC, HOUSTON, TX, 2ND PLACE, TRACKSTAND

RIDDEN IN GLASGOPOLOCO, GLASGOW SCOTLAND. WINNER, 1ST OUT OF TOWN. WINNER, FREESTYLE. WINNER, TRACKSTAND. WINNER, BEST OUT OF TOWNER. WINNER, FARTHEST TRAVELLED. WINNER, OVERALL POINTS.

RIDDEN TO THE BAR. ALL OF THEM.

NEVER EVER EVER EVER RIDDEN IN CRITICAL MASS.

KHS AERO TRACK ALUMINUM TRACK RACING FRAME 57CM AND FITS LIKE A 54- 55 (SLOPED TOP TUBE, GENIUS. IT'LL FIT ANYONE WHO CAN RIDE A 53 TO A 59.),IN ORIGINAL RED COLORWAY WITH ORIGINAL LOGOS AND ACTUAL BIKE MESSENGER STICKERS PLACED LONG AGO BY AN ACTUAL WORKING WORLD TRAVELING ALLEY CATTING RACING MULTIPLE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS AND NACC ATTENDING 6 YEAR VETERAN SF BIKE MESSENGER,
ULTEGRA HEADSET BECAUSE IT CAN STAND THE ABUSE, SMART GUY. YOUY CAN RE-TUNE YOUR VINTAGE C-RECORD ONE EVERY DAY OR RUN THIS ONE AND NEVER TOUCH IT. AND ITS LIGHTER SO YOUR ARMS CAN LIFT IT, SINCE YOUVE NEVER WORKED A DAY IN YOUR LIFE AND YOU HAVE A HANGOVER.
CAMPAGNOLO 165 MM BMX CRANKS FILED TO PREVENT BREAKAGE BY A REAL ACTUAL GENUINE BONA FIDE WORKING NON ROOKIE O.G. VETERAN SAN FRANCISCO BIKE MESSENGER (NOT JUST DRESSED LIKE ONE) SO THEY WILL NOT BREAK NO MATTER HOW HOT YOU GET TRYING TO IMPRESS THAT FIXIE CHICK IN YOUR ROOMMATES FRIGGIN ALLEY CAT.
BRIGESTONE KEIRIN FORK, GREY COLORWAY, RACED ON THE KEIRIN TRACK, PURCHASED AT BRIDGESTONE KEIRIN FRAME FACTORY, KYOTO, JAPAN.
CAMPAGNOLO SEALED CARTRIDGE BOTTOM BRACKET. ONCE AGAIN, YOU CAN JACK WITH YOUR C-RECORD ONE EVERY TIME YOU WANT TO RIDE, OR RUN THIS ONE AT A WEIGHT INCREASE OF 6 GRAMS AND NEVER HAVE TO TOUCH IT AGAIN. YOUR CHOICE, BIKE EXPERT.
GOLD KEIRIN CHAIN. BLING FRIGGIN BLING.
UNOBTANIUM SEAT POST COLLAR. PHYSICALLY LIGHTER THAN AIR. ACTUALLY REDUCES WEIGHT OF BIKE BY 3 GRAMS.

THIS THING IS SET UP HOW A REAL MESSENGER SET IT UP. I KNOW BECAUSE IM THE ONE THAT BUILT IT, NOT VALENCIA CYCLERY, AND NOT CAUSE I HANDED EM 5 GRAND OF DADDYS MONEY AND SAID MAKE ME LOOK COOL.
AND SO NOW YOU CAN TAKE THAT MONEY THAT YOUR DADDY GAVE YOU FOR ART COLLEGE TUITION AND BUY THE BIKE THAT IS GUARANTEED TO GET YOU UNPROTECTED SEX IN THE BATHROOM AT THAT FIXIE HIPSTER BAR ON 16TH.

I GOT WHEELS AND TIRES AND SEATS AND SEATPOSTS AND PEDALS AND STEMS AND BARS AND ALL THAT OTHER CRAP LAYING AROUND SO IF THE MONEYS RIGHT I'LL LET YOU SET THIS THING UP AND I'LL EVEN ASSEMBLE IT FOR YOU SINCE YOUVE NEVER TOUCHED A WRENCH IN YOUR LIFE. CAMPY CAMPY CAMPY. ALL THAT CRAP IS PHIL WOOD AND KEIRIN AND CAMPY AND IT'LL GET YOU NOTICED ON VALENCIA.

SO THATS IT. YOU FIGURE OUT HOW MUCH YOU WANT THIS THING, ADD TWO ZEROS TO THE END OF THAT TO GET CLOSER TO REALITY AND EMAIL ME.

WILL SHIP.

KEYWORDS: TRACK, FIXIE, FIXED GEAR, COKE PROBLEM, ELECTRO, MOPED, VALENCIA, CAMPAGNOLO, PHIL WOOD, PABST BLUE RIBBON, HAMMS, TECATE, POPS BAR, DELIRIUM, BENDERS', ZEITGEIST, THE PHONE BOOTH, THE MAKE OUT ROOM, PERIOD BLOOD, JAY REATARD, MESSENGER, FAKENGER, POSER, ART SCHOOL, FREIGHT BAGGAGE, TIMBUKTU, SINGLE SPEED, CHOPPER, BOBBER, NIKE, REEBOK, PASTEL, ALL OVER PRINT, HIP HOP, HUF, UPPER PLAYGROUND, RETRO, TIGHT PANTS, TRANSVESTITE, ANTI HERO, ALEY CAT, MESSENGER, BIKE RACE, BICYCLE, WICKED RAD, AWESOME, SICK, HOT, SWEET, SEXY, TITS, BUTT LUBE

Not only will this bicycle make you the "Fixie King," but it will also give you at least three STDs. You might be better off sticking with Walmart.

Bolts and Nuts: The Making of a Classic

This past weekend saw the [insert number here]th edition of the Ghent-Wevelgem professional bicycling race, which is a bicycling race in which professional bicyclists bicycle their bicycles from Gent (or "Ghent," or at least the vicinity of Ghent) to Wevelgem. Ghent, as you probably know, is in Belgium, and Wevelgem is a mythical land of faeries and imps and an autonomous city-state kind of like the Vatican or Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The race took place on Sunday, and the winner, Bernhard Eisel, had this to say:

The George he is referring to is of course George Hincapie, who came in fourth and who was himself a winner of Gent-Wevelgem back in 2001. One can only imagine how harrowing it must be to look between one's thighs and see George Hincapie coming; in fact, the last person to look between her thighs and see George Hincapie coming was former podium girl Melanie Simonneau, who subsequently married him and bore him a child. I'm sure there was a moment of horror in those final kilometers during which Eisel imagined the same fate for himself. Here he is moments before looking between his thighs:

And here's what he probably saw when he did:

In the end, this image probably gave him the final kick he needed in order to win. As for Hincapie himself, nobody knows for sure what he saw between his own thighs, but if I had to guess I'd say it was probably that oil painting of his own disembodied head watching him win a Tour de France stage atop the forbidding Pla d'Adet:

Subsequently, he got caught in the seemingly endless feedback loop of Hincapie watching Hincapie watching Hincapie (watching Hincapie, assuming you can see the Pla d'Adet-winning Hincapie reflected in the Oakleys of the disembodied head-Hincapie), and this eternal cycle of narcissism could very well have cost him his second Gent-Wevelgem win.

In any case, with Gent-Wevelgem down and the Tour of Flanders (also known as the "Round Van Floundering") coming up this weekend the "Classics" season is well under way. Of course, the Classics are classic in the classic sense of the word, meaning "recognized or established," or "memorable," or "a very good example of its kind." However, it's also worth noting that the word "classic" has evolved over the years, and now it's also synonymous with "funny," as in, "Did you see that guy in the chicken suit get kicked in the nuts by that other guy in the clown wig? That was classic!" (This despite the fact that no classical painter ever rendered such an image--at least to the best of my knowledge.) In this newer sense of the word, the Classics aren't classic, but they do have some classic moments, like in 2006 when The Great Trek Bicycle Making Company played a practical joke on Hincapie by outfitting his bicycle with a set of detachable novelty handlebars:

One Trek engineer to the other: "Did you see George's handlebars come off during a critical moment in one of the most important races of his career? That was classic!" Hopefully, we won't see too many classic moments befall our favorite Classics riders this year (at least not ones that result in serious injury), and they will all remain intact until the start of "Epic" season, which is when all the big stage races start.

Speaking of classical things, there's probably nothing less classical than a Walmart fixed-gear bicycle (or, more accurately, "fixed-speed," which I assume is their way of saying it's a singlespeed that looks like a fixed-gear), though reading the indignant comments of some of the "Fixerati" on various forums and blogs has been totally classic:

Personally, I could not be more pleased. As was the case with the Republic/Urban Outfitters bike, this is yet another blow to the carefully-constructed identities of the people who discovered track bikes in 2005 and are now trying to "save" them. Even better, unlike the overpriced Republic (not to mention the fact that that Specialized now charges over $700 for the privilege of experiencing the "purity" of a Langster), at $150 the Walmart bike actually looks like it might be a reasonable deal. Really, much of the "bike culture" seems to be about displaying your rarefied tastes and retail savvy ("savvy" in terms of finding the cool things to buy, not saving money), so anything that wrests fixed-gears or track bikes or singlespeeds or "fixed-speeds" or whatever you want to call them from the "bike culture's" smug grasp and thoroughly "uncoolifies" them is all right by me. Plus, best of all, you can customize the Cachet with stuff you find in the other departments:

That shower curtain rod will make a tight set of risers for fixed-gear freestylin'.

Anyway, any "Save the Track Bike" types who consider the Walmart bike an affront to their "lifestyle" should consider the fact that the fixed-gear bicycle has already long been cemented in the popular consciousness as a symbol of "hipster" excess, and they have only themselves to blame. Consider the book "Look At This F*cking Hipster," which is derived from the blog of the same name:

(Hint: replace the "*" with a "u" for the actual title. I know, crazy, right?)

The book officially "descends" tomorrow ("descends" is pretentious for "drops") but I recently obtained a copy thanks to my status as a member of the "doucherati" and I noticed it has a whole section on fixed-gear bicycles:

Granted, it's a short section (like three pages) but it's also a short book. Ultimately, I think all of this is an indication that the "hipsters" and the "People of Walmart" are increasingly one and the same (Isn't a "hipster" really just a "Person of Walmart" who moved to Brooklyn last month?), and this is a good thing since it helps reaffirm the fact that "coolness" is an illusion. I will admit, though, that while I'm happy about the Walmart "fixed-speed" I'm disgusted by Walmart's line of prefab sheds:

See, "back in the day," if you wanted a shed you had to build it by yourself. Plus, it took time to learn about the scene and to become down with "shed culture." Now, though, all you have to do is go to Walmart--who has totally ruined the shed scene just like Target ruined "gazebo culture." So to Walmart I say:

All You Haters Store My Lawn Care Equipment.

Still, I don't mean to say that if you want a bicycle you should buy it at Walmart. In fact, as we all know, $150 can easily become $300 or more if the bicycle or its assembly is of poor quality. Plus, if you're the type of person who feels compelled to make your bike "legit" through customization with vintage parts, it's going to take something really, really vintage to legitimize this baby. Not just any Brooks will do; you need the world's crappiest Brooks, which was forwarded to me by a reader:

Here's the compelling description:

This thing's so old it doesn't just have "street cred;" it's got "dirt road cred:"

Eric "The Chamferer" Murray was probably still playing with his chamfering knife in his bassinet when this thing was chamfered.

However, if you really want to feel special on your bike, even a lugged steel NAHBS special is insufficient. No, the truly sophisticated cyclist rides an art bike made of wood, like this one which was forwarded to me by another reader:

"Did you see that doofus totally nail himself in the nuts trying to get on his wooden bike? That was classic!"

BSNYC Friday Fun Quiz!

Crossing the Manhattan Bridge and heading into the city yesterday, I was passed by a rider on a brakeless Pista. As the rider began his descent, I noticed he had stopped pedaling, which seemed strange as he had clearly been riding a fixed-gear. He then placed the thin sole of his diminutive canvas boating shoe on the tire of his rear wheel, at which point I realized he had dropped his chain and was now trying to slow his speeding bicycle. Apparently, though, the "footjam" was not as effective as he had hoped, so he then started dragging both feet on the pavement Fred Flinstone-style. Here he is, clearly mashing his "pants yabbies" on his top tube in the process:

Eventually, he managed to finally get off the thing, and as I passed him I simply pointed to my own bicycle and said, "Brakes."

Ah, yes, brakes--those marvels of engineering which manage to function independently of the bicycle's drivetrain. Of course, they do tend to spoil the "clean lines" of your bicycle, and they can also make you look like a "woosie." I'll admit that the rider above looked really cool and elegant as he desperately struggled to save himself by dragging his feet and squashing his genitals --the whole thing was totally "zen." I wonder why he didn't simply use his gigantic empty messenger bag to stop, since it seems to me it would have functioned rather well as a parachute.

Also, it's one thing to lose your chain when you have like 100 yards of car-free pavement to figure out what to do; it's quite another when it happens on the city streets, where you're liable to get clobbered by a "Mitzvah Tank." This is the time of year when the Hasidim take to the streets in their Winnebagos, and found myself behind this one shortly after I witnessed the chain-dropping:

Notice that the driver is regarding me in a chillingly nonplussed fashion:

I was quivering with fear like a glob of gefilte fish gelatin on the gas tank of a v-twin motorcycle.

Speaking of religion, a little while later I encountered Jesus Christ, who was blocking my access to the Great Hipster Silk Route:

Apparently Jesus, who has taken the form of a truck on the occasion of the Second Coming, was having difficulty completing a right hand turn. Notice too that the local Jews are rather nonplussed:

In fact, it would not surprise me in the least to learn that the maroon Toyota Camry station wagon belongs to them, and that they are obstinately refusing to move it lest the would-be savior of humanity complete his journey to the modern-day Jerusalem that is Williamsburg, transform like Optimus Prime, and start gathering a flock of "hipster" disciples.

Anyway, like many "devout" Christians, I finally just decided to go around Jesus, after which I soon encountered another obstruction in the form of a film production:

I don't know what they were shooting, but I do know from the nearby canvas chairs that it featured Martin Short:

As a longtime Martin Short fan, it pained me deeply to learn that he had a hand in this obstruction. Falling to my knees, I prayed for the Lord Optimus Christ to lay waste to the production's fleet of rental trucks, but sadly my prayers went unanswered.

So now, I will pass the misery on to you in the form of a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right you'll gain favor in the eyes of the Lord Optimus Christ, and if you're wrong you'll see the lamentations of the damned.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and beware of Mitzvah Tanks and Transformer Messiahs.

--BSNYC/RTMS

1) My ironic intern, Spencer Madsen, actually exists.

--True
--False

2) "Apocalypse Yesterday." The $150 Mongoose Cachet "fixed-speed" bicycle is now available at:

--Walmart

--Kmart

--Costco

--Toys "R" Us

3) Why should you never hire a "hipster?"

--They are unkempt

--They are not punctual

--They pilfer supplies
--They spend all day practicing their trackstands at the office

4) Which of the following is not available from the new bicycle vending machine in Williamsburg, Brooklyn?

--Lights
--Locks
--Brake Pads
--Yarmulkes

(Spotted by a reader.)

5) What's wrong with this setup?

--No pipe end caps
--No Teflon tape on threads
--It's on a bicycle and not under a sink
--All of the above

6) Former USPRO Champion Chann McRae has taken up:

--Golf

--Biathlon

--Competitive windsurfing

--Mixed martial arts

7) Actor Sam Worthington has these encouraging words for would-be cyclists:

--"I fall off. I don't recommend everybody does it."

--"You're better off with a car if you can afford it."

--"A bike is the fastest way to get around Hollywood"

--"Riding a bike is murder on the 'pants yabbies'"

***Special Miniature Velodrome-Themed Bonus Question***

(Individual pursuit world champion Taylor Phinney may need to scale it down--literally.)

Miniature velodromes may be the future of track cycling.

--True

--False

BSNYC Product Review: Outlier Winterweight OG Pant

(Inconsiderate commuter executes a bare-headed talk-and-salmon.)

Some of you may recall that in the sultry days of last summer--indeed, the day after "Bastille Day," otherwise knows as "Frenchypendence Day"--I hoisted a post onto the Internet about a pair of shorts made by a company called "Outlier." (That's pronounced "OOT-lee-AY.") Well, so pleased were the shortiers at Outlier by my willingness to smear mayonnaise all over myself that this past January they went ahead and sent me a pair of their "Winterweight OG" pants without the slightest bit of solicitation on my part. Here's the description from their webular store:

And here is a more embellished description from their webular site:

Just in time for snow, the Winterweight OGs are back. Made in New York City these pants are designed for life both on and off your bike, all winter long. Yeah you'll see your breath as you cross the bridges and zip past your coworkers trapped in traffic, but you'll wind up at work feeling great and looking better.

The Winterweight fabric is a heavier fleeced back version of our core 4Season fabric with a 3XDry Treatment. Designed to keep you warm and dry no matter where you ride, yet still look good and wear comfortably when you get inside. A four-way stretch ensures you can move freely, handle the repetitive motion of cycling and still look sharp and refined.

The 3XDry treatment is directional. It pushes water in just one direction, away from your body. It wicks away the sweat and moisture, breathes as well as you do, and is seriously water resistant. Most rain, snow or slush just beads up and rolls away. It's a softshell so eventually it will saturate in intense conditions but when it does get wet, you'll find yourself dry in 10-20 minutes when safe from the elements. The doubleweave fabric has Cordura woven towards the outside for durability and a soft fleecy interior for a beautiful warmth and comfort.

Medium lean in cut. Wear it with a sport coat and oxfords or a hoodie with sneakers. More importantly, wear it without thinking, wear it like a second skin, wear it like a classic that works for any occasion. Fits true to size.

Finally, a garment you can wear "without thinking!" I'm so sick of those pants that will only stay up if you constantly do math problems in your head. In any case, while the Outlier pants (or, in fancy-pants parlance, "pant") may have come "Just in time for snow," obviously I'm writing this just in time for spring, so please forgive my lack of punctuality. However, as a great human quote factory once said (I think it was Ralph Waldo Emerson, or maybe Henry David Thoreau), "It takes many months to get to know a pair of pants, though it takes only a few moments to soil them." Also, as it happens, barely a month after I took delivery of the pant(s), I received an intriguing email.

As frequent readers of this blog already know, I employ a helper monkey named Vito, ostensibly to perform the menial tasks with which I can no longer be bothered (such as writing). However, Vito's career has now taken on a life of its own, and more often than not he's off auditioning for film roles (he just landed a supporting part in "Gorillas in the Mist II: Hairy Situations"), doing photo shoots for Smithsonian magazine, or making celebrity appearances for PETA, leaving me to clean the "five Japanese slow-drippers" or pair my own socks. Anyway, the intriguing email I received was from an area high school senior named Spencer Madsen. Spencer (in articulate and sarcastic prose that belied his 17 years) explained that he was feeling generally bored and unfulfilled, and that in some misguided search for meaning he wanted to work as my intern. So, with a pile of unpaired socks sitting beside me as I read this, I agreed to meet with him.

Some time later, I "interviewed" Spencer Madsen in a popular chain coffeehouse. I was impressed with Spencer's intelligence and personable nature, though I was dismayed by the fact that he laughed when I told him I needed somebody to go to the post office and wash bicycles for me. Clearly, as a product of the "Internet generation" Spencer was more interested in an ironic internship than the legitimate sort I performed in my dues-paying years. (I have been yelled at and demeaned by an impressive list of people.) Still, he was undeniably enthusiastic, and he was also demonstrably a good writer. So, after the meeting I filled out the tedious paperwork that is unfortunately becoming an increasingly significant component of "curating" this blog:
As I filled this out, I thought to myself, "If only I had somebody to do this for me," and despite the fact that I was giving Spencer a 2 out of 10 at the time I nonetheless decided to "hire" him. Yes, I now had my very own ironic intern, and I decided the first thing I'd do was make him test out some pants.

(Just in case you're skeptical at this point, I can assure you that, yes, Spencer Madsen does exist, and no, he is not a friend or relative. BSNYC/RTMS Industries Inc. Ltd. LLC strongly disavows the practice of nepotism and is an equal opportunity ironic employer.)

Anyway, back to the Outlier Winter OG pant--which, as you almost certainly noticed already, costs a whopping $188. Obviously, this is a lot of money. In fact, in Outlier's own copy (for a similar garment, the "4Season OG Pant") they say that "you can rock them like Dickies." So, why not just actually "rock" Dickies? They only cost like $20 or $30, depending on where you buy them, and like the Outlier "pant" they can be worn with a dress shirt and shoes in a "business casual" situation, or with sneakers and a t-shirt in a "faux dive bar" situation. This is what I generally do--though I will admit that, depending on your saddle choice, Dickies can be susceptible to "ass wear." Here are a few of my own:

Now, I should say that all of these have seen a fair amount of use, and I'm sure plenty of readers have experience with other relatively inexpensive work pants that hold up better. Still, "ass wear" can be a factor with almost any "pant," and it can also be potentially embarrassing. The pair on the right are particularly worn, and substituting a lemon for my "pants yabbies" illustrates the extreme consequences of the phenomenon:

Of course, I always wear underpants with Dickies, but I do tend to go "commando" when it comes to filling them with citrus fruits.

So what about the Outlier "pant?" Well, after three months of pretty frequent use the posterior portion is in very good shape:

Moreover, they're quite comfortable, and they do handle moisture the way Outlier describes:

Still, is the Outlier pant worth like eight pairs of Dickies? Even if they outlast eight pairs of Dickies, you still only have one pair of pants, whereas with cheap pants you can at least rotate (and you can also make cheap jokes about sitting on Dickies and rotating). Also, commuting to work on a racing-type saddle will certainly wear out your fabric since they're often designed to have a bit of grip when used with lycra shorts as they're intended, whereas a wider, more "comfort"-oriented saddle will be decidedly more pants-friendly. So, in pure economic terms, you're probably just better off changing the saddle on your commuter and simply using the pants you already have.

But there's more to pants than posterior durability; there's also style. Can you "wear it with a sport coat and oxfords or a hoodie with sneakers"? Well, I don't wear a sport coat or dress shoes unless somebody close to me is either getting married or buried and I have to attend the concomitant ceremony. Still, for the purposes of "testing" these out, I got a little "dressed up:"

I call this my "Reservoir Douche" look, and to compliment it I grabbed one of my "test-cycles:"

Here I am riding to my pretend job at a bank, insurance company, or legal firm:

Of course, when you're riding a bike like the Electra Amsterdam, you don't need specially-engineered pants since the drivetrain is totally enclosed and you're sitting bolt-upright on a wide vinyl seat. Really, it's about as hard on your pants as sitting in a Honda Accord or riding the Long Island Railroad--which is why I doubt most of the commuters in Amsterdam or Copenhagen bother to spend $188 on cycling-specific technical dress pants. Really, we only need them in cities like New York, where people who work in fields like advertising and design feel they need to commute to work on designer fixies or "vintage" road bikes with embroidered saddles.

In any case, I felt conflicted about these pants. They were comfortable and they were apparently durable, but they were also $188. It was time to put my new ironic intern to work and see what he would make of them, for even though these are pants designed for going to the office and Spencer is a 17 year-old high school kid with no job I figured his youthful perspective would be helpful somehow. So I had Outlier send him a pair. To give you some background, here's Spencer himself on his own personal dressing and riding style:

Let's keep in mind that although I'm 17 and live in New York, my style isn't exactly 'hip' and while I pull off skinny jeans from time to time, my daily wear pretty standard: A T-shirt and blue jeans. For cycling however, I switch it up, I wear a T-shirt and shorts. No lycra, no spandex, no skin-tight torn black pants that I bought vintage at a thrift shop for eight bucks or something because I don't shop at name-brand stores like you tools. I'm neither a roadie nor fixster, nor a douchily shaved Italian railroad worker with an enormous credit card debt due largely to things like spending $180 on a pair of pants.

So when presented with these chinos, I was unsure of what to think. My first reaction was their comparative likeness to the Dickies pants ubiquitous to my prepubescent skateboarding phase.

As you can see, Spencer is an ideal ironic intern--he's only 17, but he's already dismissively describing the folly of his "prepubescent skateboarding phase."

Anyway, once Spencer had the pants, I instructed him to evaluate them in the following categories: Fit; Style; Peer Response; and Performance. Here are his results:

Fit

The OGs, like all super-complex things made from biologically engineered materials like “The Shoeller Dryskin Extreme Fabric” require ample description. The blurb for this garment epitomizes these pants as the do-it-all of cycling wear, and they do indeed do it all. The fit is very particular, and rather insulting to a guy of 5'7. With a waist size of 27, I've always considered my build average–– My doctor's never commented on my weight/height ratio, though maybe he's just been polite. Insecurities aside I slipped these pants on and the first thought was textural, with the flexibility of a lesser-lycra, the thickness and feel of light sweatpants and the appearance of expensive slacks, these chinos have a truly unique character. Snug around my waist, they felt comfortable. I zipped up the fly and fastened the button above, immediately realizing I was only half done. With a two-fold security system the button-through-a-slit mechanism is just phase one, hook-through-a-hole is what seals the deal. Fears of being 'pantsed' quelled, I took a few steps forward, noticing my feet hidden amongst rolls of “The Shoeller Dryskin Extreme Fabric” I bent over to cuff the hems of each leg. Once, twice, three times before they stopped dragging on the floor. Now I gave both Outlier and my stature the benefit of the doubt and looked at the online-photos to see if these pants were meant to be rolled up, hoping to maintain my notion that 5'7 is a fine height for a male. Much to my dismay, however, the only times a model rocked cuffed pants were to avoid the bicycle chain. So sporting thrice-cuffed pants, I took a gander at the mirror. They looked alright, I thought, and got ready for school.

I think what Spencer's trying to say is that they fit well but were long. I guess kids today don't know how to "hit up" the tailor.

Style

My commute is an hour each way and I normally doze off to my tunes on the train or fall asleep on the shoulder of some stranger beside me. That morning, however, the OGs dominated my thoughts. I have always felt silly wearing sweatpants in public. They offer a little too much freedom for my taste. The OG's gave me a similar sense of nudity, but I knew I looked snazzy. They're not as form fitting as I'd like, and this may just be my personal preference, but in the mirror my legs looked pretty shapeless. As a cyclist I jump at any opportunity to flex my chiseled lower-limbs, and opportunity this was not. For the purposes of the pants though, I understood. Tight pants aren't yet appropriate in the workplace.

I agree that the Outlier pants feel sweatpantsy, though I am concerned about Spencer's tendency to shift the review away from the garment and to his own legs.

Peer Response

The moment I walked into school Wednesday morning, I half-expected looks, comments, even concerns as I made my way to my locker. My usually plain blue denims were now replaced by something that had “self-cleaning nanosphere treatment” technology. I was wearing the brainchild of a mad—yet fashionable—scientist, and no one seemed to notice. I went over to the Hipster posse who had just finished their milk-and-two-sugars coffees and reeked of Cloves. I told them about this company Outlier and pitched the pants to them, as they stared blankly. One of them played with a lighter. I asked if any of them rode track bikes, and two responded, saying they had “Fixies” with “Deep V's.” but they couldn't wrap their mind around $180 for a pair of pants from a brand they didn't recognize.

I proceeded to lunch, which meant loitering in the sixth floor hallways. My friends, who were aware of my wearing these pants prior to the day all said one thing when they saw me: “Where are they?” I guess the cost and science of these pants are not apparent to the untrained eye. I explained “This is it, I'm wearing the pants now,” which was surprising, to all of them. I did get a “Whoa!” or two when they felt the material, though. They didn't expect the feel of “Thick faux-spandex” as one of them put it. “They're meant for cycling as well as the work place,” I told them “So you can ride to work, and everyone thinks you're wearing slacks.” The idea prompted some interest, but the star of the discussion, as usual, was Julian's Extra Cheddar Goldfish. He shares, sometimes.

I guess Outlier have no cachet with the under-21 "hipster" community.

Performance

The only pants I've ever ridden in are my blue jeans. I ride my fixed-gear in jeans all the time, and it's fine, really. It's just on my road bike that pants making riding seem impossible. On my road bike, it's torture wearing jeans, truly. I hate it. I'd rather take my bike on the train, go home and change then spend more than twenty minutes riding in pants. So to put the OG's to the test, I took out my road bike and went for a rather chilly winter ride.

With one leg cuffed to my shoe, and another to my knee (No chain guard, no problem) I rode around, up hills, down hills, up curbs, keeping a steady 15 mph. Five minutes in I experienced no problems, ten minutes in, no fatigue. Twenty minutes in my legs felt fine. I kept going, as I hadn't ridden anything with a freewheel all winter, and enjoyed a 20 mile ride to Manhattan's upper west side and back. Despite my nose running like a faucet, it was an unusually nice ride, and thirty minutes in I completely forgot I was wearing pants. It wasn't until I was back in my neighborhood that I realized why I was riding, and immediately forgave the lesser-lycra feel. It's a sacrifice that's well worth the performance.

The next week it rained, and according to Outlier, the OG's repel drizzle, so off to school I went once more. Half expecting to see rain drops directed towards my legs to veer away from my force-field woven nanospheres, I walked at a leisurely pace to the train station. The drops hit my pants like any other item of clothing, but instead of being absorbed into the fabric they just kinda sat there, on the surface. So while 'repel' may not be the right word, these chinos are water resistant, a brisk shake and all the water fell to the ground.

Spencer has just come up with Outlier's new tagline: "I completely forgot I was wearing pants."

In conclusion, I will say that the Outlier pants do exactly what the makers claim they will do, though they don't do so cheaply. If you absolutely must ride a race bike to a job that requires you to look like you didn't ride a race bike to work, then you may want these pants, and you also may not balk at the price. To me, though, the real revelation is Spencer, who delivered a quality review for free--making him an excellent bargain.