It's my Monday and I'll ride if I want to.

Greetings from "Hipsturbia!"  That's where I am right now as I type this:

Look at that street I just rode down.  Now read the New York Times's description of it:

Here, beside the gray-suited salarymen and four-door minivans, it is no longer unusual to see a heritage-clad novelist type with ironic mutton chops sipping shade-grown coffee at the patisserie, or hear 30-somethings in statement sneakers discuss their latest film project as they wait for the 9:06 to Grand Central.

As formerly boho environs of Brooklyn become unattainable due to creeping Manhattanization and seven-figure real estate prices, creative professionals of child-rearing age — the type of alt-culture-allegiant urbanites who once considered themselves too cool to ever leave the city — are starting to ponder the unthinkable: a move to the suburbs.

But only if they can bring a piece of the borough with them.

Lies.  All lies.  I mean, sure, I bet plenty of boho douchebags move from Brooklyn to here, but I can only assume they become suburban doofuses almost immediately, because I'm up here all the time and I don't ever see anyone who fits the above description.  If this town is cool then my neighborhood is the trendiest place on the planet.  (Which I can assure you it isn't.  The hippest place in my neighborhood is a kosher cafe, withe the fro-yo place running a close second.)

No, there ain't no Brooklyn up here.  There is, however, a lot of the suburbs in Brooklyn now, but that's another story.

So what am I doing up here, besides looking for "heritage-clad novelist types with ironic mutton chops," of which there are none?  (Holy shit, I just realized I'm the mutton-chopped novelist type!  But I don't actually live here, so in your face New York Times.)  Well, I'm at a cafe where I'm busy patting myself on the back for sneaking in a bicycle ride this morning:

See that?  That's the gate to the mountain bike trails behind the mall where all the "Hipsturbia" bohos shop.  (Okay, fine, I shop there too, and we hit up Sur la Table pretty fuckin' hard this past weekend.)  What happened was I woke up this morning and thought to myself, "Aw, man, too bad it's Monday, back to the grind I guess."  Then I fired up the new coffee maker from Sur la Table, and as it slowly relinquished its fair trade caffeinated diarrhea I realized, "Wait a minute, I'm a bike blogger, I don't have a grind!"  I mean, really, if I'm going to be a semi-professional bike blogger I might as well enjoy myself, right?  So off I went.

Of course, since I was theoretically "on the clock" I strapped on the Fly6.  However, the little card inside of it seems to be freaking out a little bit, so I wasn't able to make all that much sense of the footage.  (In particular, I couldn't find the footage of myself urinating, which is a huge loss for all of us.)   I did, however, get to watch myself clearing this difficult (for me) section:

See how I get behind the saddle and my scranus totally blots out the sun?

Amazing.  Who needs one of those newfangled "dropper seatposts" when you've got this kind of crotchal agility?

I hereby dub this section "Mount Scranus:"

(Like my scranus, it's craggy and forbidding.)

In addition to patting myself on the back for riding my bicycle when actual useful people are working, I'm also patting myself on the back for owning this particular bicycle:

Which, to mitigate the sheer artisanality of it, I've currently got rolling on wheels I built using only the very cheapest mail-order components:

I think the Nashbar hub cost me something like fourteen cents, and it's one of my favorite components in cycling because about twenty different companies sell variously branded versions of it at wildly different prices, the most amusing of which is the "Woodman" which goes for well over a hundred dollars:

Still, you get your money's worth in terms of sheer bulk, because the thing weighs as much as a Honda Civic.

Meanwhile, you're probably as shocked as I am that Paolo Savoldelli was doping:

I cannot believe that a rider whose entire career was based on having slightly above-average descending skills was forced to resort to drugs.

Anyway, having frittered the morning away, it is now time for me to flee "Hipsturbia," so I'm throwing the bike on the old trunk rack and leaving town:

(Via Twitter.)

See you tomorrow, and if you're looking for me in the meantime I'll be taunting Clark Griswold.

BSNYC No Quiz Because In My Mind It's Still Only Wednesday!

Like many cyclists, I've been waiting to pull the trigger on a fat bike until they're available in solid gold, and I've now learned from Twitter that my wait is finally at an end:

Yep, it's solid gold...plated:

Using modern day techniques and taking well over 750 hours to complete, each part was coated to perfection in the USA using the electroplating process.

It's also got a saddle that's covered in alligator:

The one of a kind customized seat is covered in the finest chocolate brown alligator and absolutely beautiful. 

I agree that it's quite beautiful, and furthermore that this misshapen turd perched precariously upon a gilded pillar is a poignant metaphor for America--and if you need me to hold your hand and walk you through that metaphor, the gilded pillar is central and south America, the turd is the USA, and your ass is Canada.

Think about it.

Scoff if you will, but if nothing else, this bicycle boasts the world's most expensive set of Avid mechanical disc brakes:

I don't know about you, but for a million clams I expect hydraulics that use a brake fluid made from the semen and tears of Kim Jong-un.

Still, you can't complain, because all the money goes to charity:

The House of Solid Gold’s CEO, Mr. Power, announced recently his elation about working closely with The Way to Happiness Foundation International, a global non-profit, non-religious charitable organization whose sole mission is to reverse the moral decay of society by restoring trust and honesty the world over through the publication and widespread distribution of "The Way to Happiness" booklet, a common sense guide to better living.  The majority, 90% or more, of the proceeds from the sale of this golden bicycle will go directly to this global organization.

Wow, The House of Solid Gold's CEO's name is really Mr. Power?

Get the fuck outta here!

Oh, and yes, "The Way to Happiness Foundation International" is totally a front for Scientology:

Creepy.  Really creepy.

Anyway, I know what you're thinking, and the answers to both those questions are, "Yes, I did buy one," and "Yes, of course I used PayPal:"

I plan to upgrade to hydraulic brakes immediately, even though whenever I need to bleed the brakes this man will have to masturbate and cry:

Though I'm guessing he spends most of his time doing that anyway.

Then, once I get a solid gold "tandum" my stable will finally be complete:

Even though I won't be able to sell it to Pete afterward:

Five minutes ago it never even occurred to me that anybody might write tandem as "tandum," and now it turns out that this is actually the preferred spelling on Craigslist.

In other news, America's educators continue to do their very best to frighten children away from riding bicycles and promote the agenda of the Automotive Industrial Complex, and to that end here's a self-proclaimed "former physicist" explaining to a bunch of kids why attempting to ride a bicycle without wearing a helment means certain death:


Okay, how do you become a "former physicist?"  Can you be disbarred?  If so, I suppose one good way to go about it would be to build a ridiculous medieval watermelon-smashing contraption and use it to scare the shit out of kids--because, as the former physicist explains, "it's just like if you were riding a bike without a helmet."

Yeah, just like it.

Oh, and how do you have a crash on your bicycle?  All sorts of ways.  See, it's totally beyond your control, as his fellow presenter goes out of her way to explain:

"Or you just fall.  Sometimes it just happens.  And you don't have to be going fast, it just can happen."

Hear that, kids?  It doesn't matter what you do.  You have no free will.  One minute you're puttering along on the sidewalk at 3mph, and the next minute you're dead.  Dead!

See, it's important to create a free-floating specter of terror and anxiety and associate that with riding bicycles in order to make sure kids don't grow up thinking that cycling is a reasonable choice.

Anyway, here's the former physicist loading up his atomic watermelon smasher:

And...splat!

"You don't want that to happen to you," he says, proving conclusively that dropping a heavy hammer on a piece of stationary fruit held firmly in place with a wedge will cause that piece of fruit to explode.

I wonder if it ever makes the former physicist uncomfortable that while Neil deGrasse Tyson is opening millions of children's minds to the infinite possibilities of the universe, he's fucking up perfectly good watermelons to scare kids off bikes--and he's not even succeeding in that, because the kids just think it's hilarious.  This guy's not an educator, he's a freaking prop comic!  Why not just skip the bullshit propaganda and let the kids watch a Gallagher VHS instead?

"Here's your brain, kids, I'm going to eat your brain!," the co-presenter then doesn't say, but might as well:

But wait!  Here's the same stunt again with the watermelon wearing a helment!

And guess what?  The hammer puts a big freaking hole in the helment!

"The crack that you see in that is the crack that would have happened to your skull," the former physicist explains:

Yes.  He's right.  If you build a catapult out of a shipping pallet and a hammer, pull the hammer back, place your head under it, and then let the hammer go, you will probably crack open your skull.  I can't wait until his next demonstration, wherein he uses a pile driver and a bunch of bananas to show you why riding a skateboard without a cup will pulverize your genitals.

Hey, I'm no physicist, former or otherwise, but I do know this: if anyone ever tries to teach any one of my seventeen (17) children a "lesson" like this, I'll put that watermelon right up their ass.

Anyway, there are way worse things out there for kids than riding a bike without a helment, and most of them are considered good in this country.  Take religion for example.  "Wait, you mean you'll fill my children's heads with lies and molest them?  Sounds great, sign 'em up!"

Lastly, there's a "pop-up Cat Café" in Manhattan now:

Meanwhile, a few miles north in Yonkers, there's a vacant lot full of cat corpses:

Choose your reality.

I'm breaking away early this morning in a desperate ploy for TV time.

So it's the year 2014, which must mean that some duder made some sweet mags:



I had pretty much the same setup back in the '80s when plastic wheels still meant something:

Too bad he only appears to be doing his wheels in 26".  Is that even a size anymore?  I thought all the cool people were riding that new wheel size between 27.5" and 29" now.

All I know is that in my mind I can still hear the sound of chain slap on that chainguard, which persisted until I finally figured out I could take it off, and that first bit of customization opened a veritable Pandora's Box of radness upon the streets of my neighborhood from which it has still not recovered.

And I didn't even have a MiniBrake.

In other news, how psyched are you for this year's Tour de France?  That is not a rhetorical question, please check one (1) of the following:

__Not at all psyched;

__A little psyched, like "My Pizza Pockets are almost finished toasting" psyched;

__A lot psyched, like "The oral burns from my Pizza Pockets have finally healed and I can taste again" psyched;

__Wet-spot-slowly-spreading-across-the-front-of-my-jeans psyched;

__So psyched I just slipped into an excitement-induced coma in which I dream that I am rocketing through the cosmos on Rollerblades of Awesomeness.

Anyway, whichever response you chose, I should remind you that this year's Tour starts in Yorkshire, and a reader has shared the following with me via email:

How Yorkshire really sees the tour depart – an excuse for knitting. 

Yep, and they ain't fucking around either:

Travelling the region, prolific crafter Cassandra Kilbride is travelling the region and creating one bike per city, celebrating the best that Yorkshire has to offer. York, for example, decorated their bikes in Viking armour with Celtic symbols, representing the ancient history of their region.

"Traveling the region, prolific crafter Cassandra Kilbride is travelling the region" you say?  Fascinating.  Also, check out this wheel festooned with yarmulkes and/or "tit cosies:"

By the way, is that a 26" wheel?  Because the only acceptable use for a 26" wheel in 2014 is festooning it with tit cosies.  Do not attempt to ride it off-road under any circumstances, or else you will die.

One thing's for sure though: ASO is going to be kicking themselves for starting the Tour in Yorkshire this year, because this knitting stunt is going to completely overshadow the racing, and they'll be lucky if anyone even bothers follows them back to France:

Other bikes in the series will represent Yorkshire’s industrial heritage, literary icons such as Dracula and the Bronte sisters, sports and the rolling hills of the Yorkshire Dales. Hepworth’s bike looks to be the most unique, with their project celebrating two of the regions most famous icons – the flatcap and the whippet.

"Dude, Tour de what?  Who gives a shit!  Did you see the tit cosies on Emily Brontë?"

Yeah, they're not stupid in Yorkshire.  Not only are they going to torpedo the Tour with their insane knitting skillz, but they're also harnessing the awesome power of
the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet TridorkBret to sell you parking, as I learned via the Twitter not too long ago:

Or, you know, you could also ride your bike to the big bike race, though for that you'll need a special bicycle befitting this auspicious occasion, and here's one I've learned about from another reader:

The overpriced and over-designed urban douche chariot has become a mainstay in the world of cycling, and like all of its siblings this one too has a philosophy:

CYLO WAS DESIGNED TO BE SIMPLE BECAUSE LIFE SHOULD BE THAT WAY. BY INTEGRATING EVERYTHING WITHIN THE FRAME YOU CAN LET YOUR MIND ROAM FREELY — JUST LIKE YOU DID ON HOT SUMMER DAYS AS A KID.

First, pretty much all bikes are both "simple" and "integrated," except maybe this one.  Second, I'm not sure how this bike is supposed to calm your mind, since compared to a regular diamond frame its weird angles are disorienting and stressful, and it looks like it could even snag your "pants yabbies" in it if you were to attempt some basic stunts while riding in a kilt.  (I do all my stunt riding in a kilt for the added mobility.)  Third, my mind never roamed freely on hot summer days when I was a child.  I mean look at that picture up there!  Do you see where I grew up???  Don't let the artisanal Belgian block curb and soft grassy road shoulder fool you, I'm from the streets!  (Or, more accurately, I'm from a modest ranch house with a nice lawn in front of it set discreetly back from the streets.)  We didn't have the luxury of letting our minds roam freely.  No, for me, the dog days of summer were always pregnant with fear, sweat streaming down my brow as I looked over my shoulder for the ever-present bike thieves who were potentially hiding behind every Gran Torino ready to pounce on me and make off with my BMX bike and its sweet mags.  

But yeah, your orange whatever-it-is will look great leaning against a marble column as you douche it up with friends while sitting at tiny tables and sipping from tiny cups:

Also, it has a brake light, which they'd like you to think is a big deal:

Yeah, good for you, nobody gives a shit if you're slowing down anyway.

And if you're lucky, maybe one day you'll be able to buy a rack for it:

Don't hold your breath though.  They'll never go through with it since it might spoil the "clean lines" of that stupid vestigial brake light coccyx.

Lastly, still another reader informs me that David Byrne, a noted musician who does not own a car, is now operating a Craigslist bike rental enterprise in New Orleans:

BWATER BIKES, RENTALS, SALES, BY APPOINTMENT - $1 (BYWATER)

3917 ROYAL ST.

TREKS,GIANTS, CANNONDALE, SCHWINNS, CRUISERS,
FIXIES, ROAD, MOUNTAIN, TOURING, A TRIKE FROM THE 60'S WITH 3SPEED....
MORE...

TEXT FOR APPOINTMENT.

505-699- Seven Six Six Six NOT 504!

I guess he was serious about leaving New York.

I Can't Believe It's Wednesday Already!

Last week, I embarked upon a short hiatus with the best possible intentions: to ride my bike and stuff.  Instead, I got sick almost immediately, and so the closest I came to riding a bicycle during my break was occasionally looking through a window and seeing other people doing it.  "That looks fun," I'd think.  "I'd sure like to do that again one day."  Cycling must have been something I enjoyed doing at one point, since apparently I have a whole blog about it, and now that I feel slightly less like ass warmed over I'm looking forward to confirming whether or not that is still the case in the not-too-distant future.

In the meantime, instead of riding I've been catching up on emails, and you know what?  Checking my emails is a complete waste of time because they're completely ridiculous.  Consider this one for example:

Hi,

My name is John and I'm a founder and CEO behind Surface 604 Element Electric.

Please have a look at our latest videos presenting our e-fatty:



I admit that during our Long Dark Winter of the Soul I found myself pining for a fat bike from time to time.  However, the reason I felt this way was because I missed actually riding a bicycle.  If I'm not going to do the work myself then I might as well just ride the subway when it snows--though admittedly I'm probably not the target market for this, and an electric fat bike does seem like it would come in handy for those winter trips to your psycho-sexual "True Detective"-style torture shack:

Imagine the muffled whimpers of fear from the duct-taped mouths of the hostages when they hear the telltale sound of crunching snow under voluminous tires that heralds the return of their captor:

("Mmmm, mmmmm, MMMMMM!!!!")

Yes, out here nobody can hear you scream:

Nor can they see your unruly body hair and mistake you for a Sasquatch:

Hello,

We are interested in advertising on your websites. We just launched a new product called
No Bush Lotion. You can see it at http://www.kingsupplements.com/nobush.html. The product helps reduce the appearance of body hair and is marketed towards athletes of all kind specially cyclists. If you would like to make more money with your blog please contact me and we can work out a deal.

I've been approached by the "No Bush" people before, and their persistence can only mean one thing, so I sent them this email proving my canny ability to read between the lines:

I have yet to receive a reply.

Hey, if you've got a problem with my sub-equatorial coiffure why not just come right out and say it?

By the way, the "No Bush" people aren't the only ones who want me to mention their product because they have no idea I've already been mentioning their product.  You might recall that not too long ago I posted the video for something called the "MiniBrake," and subsequently I received an email from the unwitting co-founder asking me to do that which I have already done:

I'm Daniel Bognar, co-founder of MiniBrake - we're developing a child safety device that can help parents protect their kids on the road. We've just launched a crowdfunding campaign to help put MiniBrake into production. We're trying to reach out to parents in the cycling communities and I'm wondering whether you're interested in our concept and whether you'll be open to write about this child safety device in your blog.

You can check out our pitch video about the product here: 



As I said before, I think the "MiniBrake" would be much more useful on adult bikes.  In fact, in addition to so-called "Lawyer Lips," the law should also require all sporting bicycles sold in the United States to be equipped with a MiniBrake.  Just imagine a "master switch" on your handlebar that would allow you to stop any Fred or tridork in his tracks.  Can you picture the look of surprise and panic on the typical wheelsucking doofus's face as his rear wheel locks up and you leave him pounding on his aerobars wondering what the hell just happened?  Sure you can!  It's exactly the same look of surprise and panic wheelsucking doofuses wear all the time.  They always look like they're about half a second away from crashing, probably because they usually are.

Instead, the MiniBrake is marketed towards inattentive parents, like Julianne Moore here, who's apparently too busy making plans for "Boogie Nights II" to notice that her child is schluffing off on his balance bike to meet his fate:

Not that I'm judging, mind you.  I have a Twitter account, and every single "Tweet" on it represents 15 or 20 minutes I've subsequently spent searching for my own child on a crowded sidewalk, street, or subway platform.  Criticizing parents for minor stuff like "inattention" or "being drunk most of the time" is the sort of thing that only non-parents do, since they don't understand the rigors of parenting and the state of perpetual non-sobriety that the job requires.  It's these same non-parents who freak out when they see relatively innocuous stuff like this:

("Urban Amish Utilizes Popular Bicycle Sharing Program To Portage Child" is the headline I'd have gone with.)

First of all, "Father" looks like he just had his Bar Mitzvah about two months ago, so I'm relatively certain that's actually her brother.  (Either that, or it's rare photographic evidence of a blood libel kidnapping if you're both uptight and anti-Semitic.  Hey, it was just Easter, you know.)  Second of all, loosen your sphincter's death grip and stop making such a big deal, for fuck's sake.  "Death Defying?"  Really?  Well, I guess in the age of stuff like child leashes and sledding helments, sure:

(Oh come on.)

However, if you actually stop and think about it, the parent (or sibling) driving a young child around the city in an SUV is doing something far more "irresponsible" than carrying a kid on a Citi Bike at slightly more than walking speed.

(Just fell off the fucking BQE, no big deal.)

But of course it's a bicycle in America, so when assessing the risks the laws of physics don't apply.  Instead, just look for the presence or absence of a foam hat and extrapolate from there.

Anyway, MiniBrake guy's email continues as follows:

I think I know your first two questions :) Won't the kid just fall over? We designed the brake to avoid that even if a child is going fast. First, the brake is applied to the rear wheel, not the front, second, the brake is applied by putting pressure on that wheel, and not by suddenly blocking them. And the second most common (and totally valid!) question is "Shouldn’t my kid learn to be careful on the road instead of parents stepping in to “save the day”?" We completely agree that kids must learn to be self-reliant and sometimes it’s necessary for kids to learn from their own mistakes. Thus, MiniBrake does not aim to replace teaching kids how to be careful on the road. However, there are always situations in which parents do not want to teach their kids a lesson – they just want to intervene and avoid an accident.

Actually, both of these answers are disappointing, because my first two questions were as follows:

1) Will this lock up the wheel instantly to aid my child in the laying down of fat skidzzz?

2) Have you thought about a "MiniMotor" that drives the wheel instead of slowing it, similar to that Citi Bike motor thing, so parents can get their kids up to "Fred woo-hoo-hoo-hoo" speed before initiating the skid?

Really, the fundamental elements of childhood cycling are going fast and skidding.  Everything else is irrelevant.

Speaking of children and cycling, Andy Schleck isn't ready to give up on it yet:

"Today, I still miss things [...] I'm missing some sensations in races. Something to give meaning to all the work I do in training.”

"DO I HAVE TO SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU?," Schleck continued.  "I NEED DRUGS!!!  JUST LET ME HAVE SOME DRUGS!!!"

I guess he's going to have to wait around for uncle Johan.

This Just In: I'm Teaking a Brake! (And Friday Fun Quiz, on Thursday!)

Firstly, after today's post I won't be adding what in the industry we call "content" to this blog until Wednesday, April 23rd, at which point I will resume regular updates.  Don't like it?  Eat a Brompton.

(Bromptons are organic, unlike Dahons and other folders which are loaded with hormones.)

Secondly, five or ten or twenty years ago or whenever it was that I started this blog, I was nothing more than a cranky mid-category back-of-the-pack amateur bike racer with no friends and a hurty vagina complaining about fixies on the Internet.  Since then virtually nothing has changed, apart from the fact that I've fallen off the back of the pack altogether, my vagina hurts a little more, and instead of fixies I'm complaining about gravel bikes.

Anyway, in the very early days of this blog, one of the first people in the actual bicycle industry (if not the first) to send me an encouraging email was this guy, who was at Swobo at the time:

Movers and Makers Vol. 2 Stevil Kinevil from Swobo on Vimeo.

Despite being in a better position than maybe anybody in the world of cycling to call me out and write me off as a know-nothing blowhard Internet douchebag, instead he befriended me, or at least he humored me, and we struck up a correspondence.  In fact, while I was still closely guarding my anonymity, he was the very first person on the Internet to reveal my face, which he did on his (old) blog with my full cooperation in the form of this photo that was taken in an undisclosed location sometime during the 1980s, as if you couldn't tell from my wardrobe:

Danzig shirt?  Check.  Swatch?  Check.  Splatter-bleached pants?  Check.  Half-Jew Fro?  You bet your tuchus.  By the way, that's the closest I've ever come to a piece of functioning artillery, and it's a good thing I was wearing those busy pants because you can't tell that I just wet myself.

If I seem like I'm making all of this about me, it's only because: 1) I'm completely obsessed with myself and on some level probably jealous of the video; and 2) Stevil is a humble person who is modest to a fault and is probably still blushing over the fact that there's now an Internet documentary about him, so I'm redirecting the attention to someone who knows how to handle adulation and praise, namely me.  (Although let's be honest, he did let these people into his house, so how modest could he be?)  And perhaps most importantly, Stevil is an exception in a world of bike bloggers who do little more than show off their latest custom bike builds, and it's very important to my self-esteem that people know that I have cool friends.

So go to his site, buy his stuff, and support the people who dedicate their lives to your amusement.

And buy some of the stuff over in the right hand margin of this blog while you're at it, you cheapskates.

Cheapskates.

(Use discount code "NOBR AKES" and get nothing off on your purchase whatsoever.)

And now, I'm pleased to present you with a quiz.  As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer.  If you're right then eat a Brompton, and if you're wrong you'll see the Traffic Droid.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and see you on Wednesday, April 23rd.


--Wildcat Rock Machine

(Every Fred's spirit animal.)

1) The latest thing for Freds to obsess over is:

--Saddle rail integrity
--Tubeless sealant molecular half-life
--Electronic shifting/ANT microwave data interference
--When to replace their quick release skewers

2) What's he doing?

--Hacking away at a wet log for some reason
--Straining to uproot a small weed
--Straining to drop a log
--Putting, because all-terrain golfing is the new cyclocross

4) One bicycle can be "noticeably faster at any speed" than another, in the same way that:

--A pound of lead can be heavier than a pound of feathers
--1,000 grams is heavier than one kilogram
--32°F is colder than 0°C
--All of the above

5) What are these?

--High-performance motorcycle pistons
--The new Chris King tunable espresso tampers
--Rear shocks for the new Moots full-suspension gravel bike
--Remedial pedals for people who suck at clipless

6) The new "Wide Stance" bottom bracket adapter kit will increase your "Q-factor" by up to three meters, allowing you to convert any standard road bicycle to a bakfiets.

--True
--False

7) Which award did this photo win?

--"Best Alleycat Hurl," Chrome Industries Facebook photo contest
--"Cyclists Behaving Badly," San Francisco Chronicle Twitter photo contest
--Best Sports Photography (newspaper circulation 1-100,000, regional magazine, non-daily publication or online independent)
--The Pu(ke)litzer  

(Called it!)

8) A Paris-Roubaix rider may indeed have fallen on his drugs.

--True
--False

***Special Cat 3s and 4s Doing What They Do Best-Themed Bonus Video***