One Bike Too Many: From Buddha to Burgess

On Monday, I put forth that it's important to limit the number of bicycles you own, and I stand by my assertion. You can't have a bike for every ride, just like you can't have a gear for every hill, and the rider with a bike for every eventuality is hardly different from the celebutard who must purchase another apartment to house her shoes. Then, on Wednesday, I went on to criticize "The Climb" author Robert Mackey (who cleaned his front tire recently) for going to Europe in order to prep for his trip to Europe, likening this to "the dentist who buys a Madone while he waits for his custom Serotta to come in." And here, according to at least one reader, I crossed a line.

That reader was Dr. John M. Gowey, DDS. Dentists everywhere owe Dr. Gowey a debt of gratitude, for it is he who emails me to from time to time to correct some of my misconceptions about dentists. Just some of the things I've learned from Dr. Gowey are: 1) not all dentists ride Serottas (at least he doesn't); 2) dentists care for their bikes as meticulously as they care for their teeth (at least Dr. Gowey does); and 3) dentists love "Seinfeld" because Dr. Tim Whatley is one of the few non-psychopathic dentists in mainstream entertainment. (In that regard it seems Dr. Whatley is to some degree their Paul Robeson, or at least their Sidney Poitier.)

And I just thought they were just a bunch of sadistic Serotta-straddling maniacs. Who knew!?!

Anyway, with regard to my comment about a dentist buying a Madone while waiting for his Serotta, the always insightful Dr. Gowey had this to say:

In today's post, you insinuated that there is something wrong if a dentist gets a Madone while having to wait for his Serotta. What you did not specify was the length of time the dentist was forced to wait before the arrival of the Serotta. Now if it were only a couple of weeks he had to do without the Serotta, I would certainly agree with you that although it is good for the current economy, the dentist was exhibiting signs of excessive consumerism. If the lag time for the new bike was projected at more than two weeks however, I think a dentist (or even a non-dentist) is perfectly justified in buying a "gap bike" to help him make it through the difficult waiting period. You should acknowledge that if an "Orange Julius bike" is a reasonable purchase, then a "bike purchased while waiting for a new bike" or "gap bike" should be justified as well.

I pondered Dr. Gowey's email for some seconds. At first I was tempted to dismiss the very notion of a "gap bike" as excessive, but then I decided to appease Dr. Gowey, mostly because despite Gowey's assertions to the contrary and his fondness for Tim Whatley I still think dentists actually are sadistic psychopaths and I was afraid he might come after me. So I decided to allow Gowey and his dental ilk their "gap bikes," provided they adhere to a formula. I replied to him thusly:

I'm prepared to give an allowance of $150 a month. That means if you've got to wait three months for a Serotta or similar you can spend $450 on an old aluminum bike with 8 speed or something. I think that's more than fair. Given that, if the gap bike were a Madone 5.1 retailing at $3,019.99 (the Ultegra bike, slumming it I know but still a decent gap bike) the gap would need to be 20.13 months.

You may exceed that if you can recoup the excess by selling it (on the Serotta forums, where else?) but if you can't you're personally liable for the balance.

This I hope will appease dentists everywhere and thus spare me an untimely demise at the wrong end of some hideous dental implement.

Gap bikes aside, however, I maintain there are circumstances under which even one bicycle is one too many. Here is just one such circumstance:

This De Rosa was repainted by De Rosa in Italy. Previous owner had moola and up close the paint is stunning. To do the paint job justice, I built it up with some nice components, Phil woods, Campy Cranks, Campy brakes, Pearl this, Nitto that. I don't really ride it as I enjoyed putting the bike together more. That's why I am selling this one and starting another one. So I decided to post some pics before selling.

I think an actual geared drivetrain might have done this frame more justice, and that a frame should at least reach a certain level of deterioration before it's given the fixed-gear treatment. But hey, if your idea of fun is bolting track components to road frames I'm the last person who's going to stop you. And yes, building bicycles, however incongruous they may be, can be both enjoyable and rewarding. But it is also fun to ride bicycles, and if riding a bicycle you built isn't as enjoyable as building it, then that doesn't reflect so well on the build. Most dangerous though is flirting with addiction by endlessly purchasing and assembling components. This is something we all flirt with as cyclists. Building a bicycle can bring you joy or it can lead you to ruin, and if you're not riding the bikes you're building at least long enough to wear out a set of tires, you may be on a ruinous road. I would advise him to satisfy his need to build anew by rebuilding his current bike as a geared road bike. If the compulsion to sell and replace is still present, seek help.

Then there's this.



Yes, it should come as no surprise to anybody at this point that bars are getting shorter. It's almost as though stems are electric sharpeners and the bars are pencils being fed into them from either end. At this point I think the only thing keeping straight bars long enough to actually protrude beyond the stem clamp is the size of the grips out there on the market. This at least is ensuring that riders maintain a fistful of bar on either end of the stem. But once some fixed-gear rider has that "2001" bone-in-the-air moment of revelation and takes a scissor to his Ourys, watch out--that's when you're going to see some serious index-finger-and-thumb steering. Just imagine someone eating a piece of baby corn like it's regular corn--that's how people are going to be holding their handlebars.

This bicycle may also be one too many:

I'm not sure if "pengy" is a diminutive form of "penguin," or of "penga." If the former, it may refer to the animal this bicycle represents. If the latter, it refers to the organ which the top-tube pad protects. In either case, it wouldn't be terribly difficult to imagine Burgess Meredith straddling this bike and softly quacking to himself as he pedaled bow-leggedly away.

Stuck In Customs: Bespoke Rationale

In yesterday's post, I mentioned a review of a $15,000 road bike. As anybody well-versed in cycling literature knows, high-end road bikes elicit prose of surreally comical exuberance. This is because bike reviewers will say nearly anything while under the intoxicating spell of fresh, new crabon. They're like adulterers in mid-coitus, blithely promising to leave their spouses and buy their paramours a house.

However, there's another subject that produces articles which make high-end crabon reviews seem as dry as actuarial tables in comparison. This subject is custom bikes.

Now, I admire, respect, and covet custom bicycles as much as any cyclist. I mean, who wouldn't like to have one? What's not to like? If you're an experienced cyclist who knows what you want and why, at a certain point you're probably going to want somebody to make it for you.

However, the current handmade bike boom, coupled with the Internet, has given birth to an absurd new form of cycling literature I call "Custom Bike Proselytizing." This literature is authored by people who started riding yesterday, got a custom bike today, think this means they "graduated" somehow, and are now going to tell you why you're an idiot if you don't do the same thing.

Recently, a fellow Tweeterer alerted me to this article, and it may very well stand as the high water mark of the genre:

(Because you need a bike that looks like it was designed by Dr. Seuss.)

See, you need a custom road bike. Why? Because Lance Armstrong bought one:

In fact, I was just in Mellow Johnny’s, the Texas bike shop owned by the most famous cyclist in history, 7-time Tour de France champ Lance Armstrong, and they had a hand-built custom frame on display with a placard saying that it was the first bike Lance EVER bought with his own money – and that was a recent purchase.

You're probably familiar with the bike he's talking about. It was built by Sam Whittingham of Naked, it won a bunch of awards at the NAHBS in 2008, and it does indeed hang in Mellow Johnny's:


Apparently though, during his visit to Mellow Johnny's this guy somehow managed to miss all the other bikes on display in the shop that Lance Armstrong actually used to win races. He also seems to have overlooked the fact that his article is about custom road bikes, and this is not a road bike. Nevertheless, let's look at the motivation behind Armstrong's decision to buy a custom bike. Which do you think is the more likely scenario?

1) Armstrong was unhappy on his Trek Madone, which he helped design and upon which he won multiple Tours de France, so he got rid of it and ordered a custom singlespeed with wooden wheels;

or;

2) Armstrong saw the bike at the NAHBS, thought it was cool, and decided it would look awesome hanging in the bike shop he was opening.

Not to diminish either Whittingham's talent or Armstrong's appreciation for it, but I'm going to go with #2.

But this isn't the only reason you should buy a custom bike. You also need one because it is crucial to your emotional well-being:

FYI, a new study written up in The Atlantic showed that in places where more people ride bikes to work, the citizens are happier, healthier, and more successful. I bet this is even truer for those who go custom over stock.

Oh, yeah, I bet that as well. Clearly someone who spends thousands of dollars on a custom bike to ride to work will be a "happier, healthier, and more successful" human being than someone who commutes on a stock bike--especially when that expensive custom bike gets stolen. I mean, what kind of loser commutes on a stock bike anyway?

At this point, you may be doubting the author's credentials, but it soon becomes clear that he's a cycling expert--and by "expert" I mean a guy who admits he really doesn't ride all that much:

I spend a lot of time in the saddle as a recreational rider, doing charity Centuries (100 mile rides) and weekly fun group rides, but nowhere near as much as many enthusiasts, and going custom has emancipated my back and neck from pain, eliminated numb hands on longer rides, and basically crushed all discomfort except that which comes for being out of shape.

Please note that this sub-enthusiast says he needed a custom bike to free him from numbness and pain on those grueling charity rides. I will come back to this one later. Anyway, while he'll clearly spare no expense to free himself from discomfort, he's a bit more miserly when it comes to his wife:

My wife, on the other hand, has a high-quality stock frame, and has made repeat visits to bike fitters over the years for new stems, handlebar adjustments, etc., in an attempt to eliminate her neck and shoulder issues. It has helped, but not enough (she’ll go custom when it’s time to buy a new bike, meaning when the piggy bank gets bigger).

How chivalrous. "Sorry, honey. Not enough money to get a new bike for you too. You're just going to have to suffer." He should have called this article, "Why You Need A Custom Road Bike, But My Wife Should Just Deal With Her Jamis." At the very least, she probably finds reassurance in the fact that riding her stock bike is probably nowhere as painful as her marriage.

But don't take his word for how awesome custom bikes are; take the word of the dentist he met the other day:

The other day I was riding with a guy who had a Serotta, one of the top companies for custom bikes, and he told me how he went to a fancy bike shop and they told him that due to his size and shape, no off the rack bike would fit him well. He naturally assumed they were scamming him into buying a high-priced custom, so he spent the next two years going from shop to shop, unable to find anyone who could offer to sell him a bike that fit, riding a painful compromise the whole time, before biting the bullet and investing in the Serotta, which he now wishes he had bought two years earlier.

Ah yes, the quasi-mythical person who cannot be fit to a stock frame under any circumstances. Sure, there are a lot of people who have no alternative but to go custom due to sizing reasons. However, most of those people are called "Neanderthals" and went extinct about 1,300 centuries ago. (That's actual centuries, not the things the author says he needed a Seven to do.) They're not all Neanderthals though. In fact, here's Serotta guy before he "saw the light:"

The shop rat who fitted him to that bike should be ashamed of himself.

Anyway, despite the almost incalculably vast number of off-the-rack road bikes and frames out there, rest assured that there's almost no way any of them will ever fit you:

Unless you are 100% “average” no premade frame will ever fit you as well as one custom made to your measurements, from inseam to reach to how far you bend at the waist while riding. When I got my bike made by Seven Cycles, there were over 100 different questions and measurements involved.

First of all, Seven makes a fine bicycle, but anybody who regularly begins sentences with "When I got my bike made by Seven Cycles..." is probably a douchebag. Secondly, I think what he meant to say is that unless you're 100% "nonhuman" no premade frame will ever fit you. As it is, I know people (humans, all of them) in all sizes who ride stock frames comfortably, happily, and far more swiftly than I ever could. Then again, when someone asks you over 100 freaking questions about the product you're buying it's only natural to assume it will be 100 times better. Here's an excerpt from that Seven Cycles questionnaire he had to fill out:

46) How many miles a year do you ride?

--Less than 1,000

--Less than 100

--Less than 1

47) Which of the following describes your spending habits? (Check all that apply)

--I spend freely

--I spend exorbitantly

--I came, I saw, I squandered

48) Have you ever gotten a boner while watching a Range Rover commercial?

And so forth.

Sure, some of it seems gratuitous, but they need to be sure you're real "Seven Cycles" material.

Speaking of materials, Seven Cycles needed to use an oversized seat tube to suit his climbing style:

Then there is the performance issue. I like to climb, a lot, long grueling climbs and I like to stand and grind. So when I got my custom bike, I told Seven Cycles this and they built in an oversized seat tube to add rigidity for my standing pedal stroke, an efficiency increase. Even if a stock bike fit me perfectly, no stock bike can change the diameter of the tubes and flex of the frame to suit my whims, but Seven can.

In other words, Seven will build a bike around your poor climbing technique. Somehow a big guy with massive power like Thor Hushovd can finish in the top 10 for the entire first week of the Tour de France on a plastic Cervelo, yet this guy can't find a bike rigid enough to withstand his mighty climbing style. If he's "standing and grinding" all the time, my guess is he doesn't need a Seven; what he he needs is a triple.

This is why he didn't buy a bike from Richard Sachs:

In a recent interview with Men’s Journal Magazine, Sachs said, “My bikes aren’t going to make you a faster or better rider.” I don’t know if that is true or not, but I know my Seven, and my friends’ Sevens and Serottas and Penguins have made them faster, if not better, riders, because they are lighter and optimize efficiency while better comfort on longer rides reduces fatigue.

This is another way of saying, "My friends and I only buy bikes from people who will lie to us." And that's not the only problem with Richard Sachs, either:

The other “problem” with the small custom shops is that for the most part they only work in metal, and many only in steel, because titanium (better than steel) requires more specialized equipment (especially for welding) and carbon fiber (better for some applications, like time trial and aero triathlon bikes) even more so, while the bigger companies offer the full choice of materials.

Yes, the other "problem" with small shops--apart from the obvious fact that they won't lie to you--is that they also won't let you buy more expensive frame materials. Remember: titanium is better than steel. Got it?

Most importantly though:

Wherever you get your custom bike you are going to be very happy with the fit, and anyone who knows anything about bikes will tell you that the fit is the single most important thing.

Yes, anybody who knows anything about bikes will tell you that the fit is the most important thing. I know this is true because he doesn't know anything about bikes, and he just spent like half the article saying the advantage of custom bikes is stuff like variable seat tube thickness for mashing your way through a charity ride, as well as the availability of titanium--which, of course, is the greatest metal known to humankind.

Then the same Tweeterer sent me this article, in which the author totally reverses himself:

Remember that Seven he needed for those century rides? Well, it turns out all he needed was a cheap singlespeed:

By the end of my first summer I took what was meant to be an occasional training tool and rode a charity century on it, 100-miles in Vermont and New Hampshire, where there is no ride without hills. I’d done the ride for years on my normal bike, and had to work harder, but finished in the same time.

In fact, he actually rides his cheap singlespeed instead of his Seven a lot of the time:

Usually I ride my single speed every third or fourth ride... I feel it has definitely helped my riding and fitness, and it’s fun. It is also cheap, easy and one less thing to worry about getting tuned at the shop.

So his singlespeed is cheap, easy, and fun, and he rides it at least 25% of the time. Meanwhile, the Seven is apparently a source of anxiety. But don't confuse his singlespeed with a track bike, because track bikes are for "obscure bike racing:"

The other traditional user of the single speed has been the track racer, a relatively obscure bike racing niche you probably never have seen outside the Olympics, sort for like speed skating with bikes, and these racers use single speed track bikes.

Somebody really needs to put that on a t-shirt:

And here's why you don't want a track bike:

Track bikes are “fixies” meaning they have a fixed gear... These bikes also have foot acitvated braking, like your childhood bike, which frankly is better suited for 5-year olds, except when going downhill at 40MPH.

Yes, track racing bikes have "foot activated braking," so while they're a bad choice for you, they're great for your 5-year old kid. And the difference between a fixed-gear and a coaster brake is not the only distinction that vexes him:

Also for some reason, manufacturers don’t think you will ride it like a road bike and tend to give them fatter crossover tires. I started by ordering a bare bones Motobecane model similar to this one from bikesdirect.com, for around $400 (note how almost every other single speed model for sale is a track bike. Where are all these track racers?).

The manufacturer may have given your Motobecane its "fatter crossover tires" because it's actually a cyclocross bike. As for the whereabouts of all those track racers, you may not be seeing them on your charity rides because they're at the freaking track. In any case, I'm still trying to figure out why he needed that Seven, and apparently so is he, since his mail-order Motobecane seems to be serving him just as well:

This is the bike that started my love affair with single speeds and I did the first century on it, rather than my custom titanium road bike that cost roughly 12 times as much.

To that end, he's come up with some stupid car analogy:

And while I still firmly believe you should have one great bike, custom fit to you, this is an occasional fling, like the 60s muscle car next to your Mercedes sedan in the garage, so don’t worry too much about it (See my post on why you should get a custom road bike).

A bike that you ride a quarter or a third of the time is not an "occasional fling." Try spending 25% of your time with another woman and then telling your wife you're having an "occasional fling." You remember your wife--she's the one who's in all that pain while you brag about your Seven and build stupid singlespeeds:

Nice bike. Looks like it fits pretty well, too. Just put the derailleurs back on that thing and maybe you can finally get rid of that Seven.

The Indignity of Winter: Sights Repulsive and Glorious

One of the most rewarding aspects of maintaining a humorous (or ostensibly humorous) cycling blog is that even people who know me in "real life" think of me when they see disgusting bicycle-related things. Not only that, but they also take the time to photograph those things for me. So you can imagine how much pleasure I felt when one of the first items I saw upon checking my email this morning was this saddle, which is covered in what appears to be tuna:

("Bella Gella?" Or "Bella Tuna?")

As rewarding as it is to know that you're the first thing someone thinks of when they see a bike seat covered with masticated tuna, this was very nearly enough to cause me to relapse into the illness with which I began the week. Speaking of that illness, I am feeling much better now, but please don't tell that to the people who continue to send me inspirational "get well" cards. In addition to Erik K's heartfelt sentiment, I've now received this one from the proprietor of the "Old Ten Speed Gallery:"
As you can see, I have rendered the image "safe or work" via the addition of a pair of giant cockles. If you would like to see the original either because you don't work, or you work at home, or your workplace is amenable to the perusal of images of naked people testing the structural integrity of their bike racks, it is here. (Just kidding. Actually, it's here.) By the way, if you're expecting any lewd puns about cockles, or clams, or even tuna on saddles, I'm sorry to tell you you're reading the wrong blog and you're simply not going to find them here. (You will, however, be able to find them on my new website, "wethothilariousbikesexpuns.org," just as soon as that $1.6 million in venture capital comes through.)

In any case, having recovered to the point where traveling by bicycle is now possible again, I was "palping" my Scattante (that is not a pun) to the WHHBSP loft space this morning to see how our new office space is coming along when I found myself longing for warm breezes--as are many other cyclists, according to this post on the New York Times "Spokes" blog, which also mentioned road salt:

In any discussion of cycling in winter, it is inevitable that the subject of "component-eating road salt" will come up. Yes, winter and road salt go together like cockles and clams, or like saddles and tuna, and whether the publication is the New York Times, or Bicycling, or VeloNews, you will eventually find some mention of how it is essential to clean your bike constantly during the winter lest road salt dissolve it like a glass of tap water dissolves a tablet of Alka-Seltzer, or like the Tour de France dissolves Cadel Evans's resolve.

Frankly, I think this fear of road salt is excessive--especially when it comes to commuter bikes. Sure, you might want to protect your dentist bike from the worst conditions, but if you're worried about road salt damage to your commuter bike then your commuter bike isn't crappy enough. Also, perhaps we use some kind of "woosie" road salt here in New York City, but I consider cleaning my commuter bike during the winter a craven act of capitulation, and when I finally do give it its annual rinse sometime in the spring the bike is still there and it looks pretty much the way it did the last time I saw it back in late November--which is admittedly crappy, but really no crappier for having been packed in salt like a baccalau. I mean, I know the stuff is bad, but I don't think it's as dangerous as they say--especially if you have bike that is strong like Russian bear:


Still, it would be nice not to have to think about cold or road salt at all, and the post went on to recommend a trip to Morocco:

To me, "the rub" with regard to a trip to Morocco is not so much the $300 it could cost to fly with my bike as it is the cost of the entire rest of the trip. If you really want to go to Morocco and the only thing stopping you is the $300 bike fee then just leave the bike at home and figure something out when you get there. Then again, I just checked the Morocco Craigslist, and unfortunately there are no bicycles for sale there at the moment.

Before reading this post I had absolutely no intention of visiting Morocco, but by now I was irritated that I couldn't go, and thanks to the Times my trip home from the WHHBSP will only feel that much colder. Not only that, but as if to rub salt in my components, the post also offered a sorry "plan B," which was to head to the "Hipster vs. Hasidim" bike lane debate in Williamsburg on January 25th:

I'm glad to see that things have moved past threats of naked bike rides and into the realm of discourse, though Pete's Candy Store is a "hipster" stronghold and not exactly neutral territory. It's sort of like the Olympic water polo team challenging the "Milwaukee 11" to a match in a swimming pool. Still, I suppose it's a good sign, though I will be nowhere near it, for fear that David Byrne or some other member of the "cultural elite" might drop in and use the controversy as an opportunity to expound on all that is wrong with the world. Anyway, it's quite a choice the Times is presenting: Go to Morocco, or stay here and argue with the Jews.

In any case, while I may seem cavalier about road salt damage and the state of our bike lanes, that doesn't mean I'm not making provisions--at least for the former. In the unlikely event that my bicycle does fall apart I have already picked out a possible replacement in the form of this "Cicco" (which I assume is pronounced "Chico"):




New Cicco 54 cm frame fork and Ultegra grouppo (Battery Park)
Date: 2010-01-13, 7:13PM EST
Reply to: [deleted]

Brand new Never used or build up 2002 Cicco Allumino fame and fork with an Shimano Ultegra 9 speed grouppo full set

Frame is Aluminum with carbon set stay and fork 54 cm
Cicco Challenger Allumino

Crank Set 39-53 (172.5 mm)
9 speed chain
Cassette (12-23)
Brake Shifters (STI)
Break Calipers
Front Derailleur
Rear Derailleur
Head Set
Bottom Bracket (Italian Threaded)
Front hub and Read (36 holes)
All new in box

I'm in lower Manhattan
Dont make me put this on eBay

Make your best offer

As much as I've always longed to own a genuine Chico, I suspect flim-flammery as the bicycle pictured is clearly a Ciöcc--which looks like it should be pronounced "Crotch" but which the cycling cognoscenti know is actually pronounced "Cockle." Falling victim to such a scam would be almost as regrettable as the theft of a Softride:

black SOFTRIDE bike stolen (East Village)
Date: 2010-01-13, 8:56PM EST
Reply to: [deleted]

my beloved black Softride tri-bike was stolen from my building's basement on 1/12/10.(yes it was locked)
It has Mavic 650c wheels, aero-bars on bullhorn, Planet Bike computer, black cranks, black pedals (toe cages), a single FSA chainring, dura-ace rear derailleur, Selle saddle, Fizik bag, etc., etc.

Look for the Pinhead locks on the hubs and the fact that in order to remove it the thief (s) would have had to snip some front spokes, but they won't have the key to remove the wheel. It also has an attachment on the rear wheel where I clipped my dog's wagon to it to ride with her over the W'burg bridge to work.

Now we're sunk!

PLEASE help me recover this adored bicycle. Any info, any questions, please let me know!

Most regrettable of all, though, is that the theft of this bicycle means I may never get to see somebody using a Softride to tow a dog in a wagon across the Williamsburg Bridge. I implore you if you know anything at all to help reunite this person with his bicycle so that he may tow again. A more glorious sight I cannot imagine.

Pimping Your Ride: Making Money With Your Bike

In these difficult economic times, it is increasingly difficult to make ends meet. Fortunately, as cyclists, we have a number of advantages over the rest of humanity. For one thing, our preferred mode of transport is relatively inexpensive--well, that's not always the case, but it's true for the most part. Also, despite our many differences, we cyclists are a community. And the best thing about being part of a community is that you can take advantage of it by offering fellow members dubious goods and services in exchange for money. For example, not only is your bicycle a cheap way to get around town, but it can also be a cash cow:



can I rent your track bike?
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-02-03, 6:02PM EST

I am not selling anything. I have posted in the bicycle section because I am in New York until the 13th of February. I am looking to rent a track bike. I ride a 50 or 51 but I can ride up to a 53 or 54. I regularly ride brakeless but I am happy to borrow any track bike with brakes as long as it is fixed.
I am willing to pay about eight dollars a day. And I can assure you that I will not leave the bike alone or in an unsafe place. I do not have a lock, so unless I can borrow one, I will not even leave the bike outside.
Please give me a call 646.244.[deleted]. or email me.

As the architect of "Take A Pista, Leave A Pista," I've long seen the potential for a track bike-sharing program. The fixter is a nomadic breed, often moving from city to city for years before finally choosing one that offers the perfect combination of trendiness and low cost of living. This is why so many Craigslist posts incorporate the familiar "Moving--Must Sell!" sales pitch. Furthermore, this is also why people try to sell their bicycles at close to full MSRP, since as soon as they arrive in, say, Portland, they will be forced to purchase a duplicate of the bike they just sold in, say, Brooklyn. "Take A Pista, Leave A Pista" would obviate the need for this formality. Instead, just leave your Pista or similar in the tray at JFK and grab another when you arrive at PDX.

However, "Take A Pista, Leave A Pista" has two shortcomings. Firstly, while creating a communal Pista supply is altruistic and a worthy social endeavor, there's little potential for revenue. Secondly, it is not designed with the fixter tourist in mind. Fixter tourists do not want to give up their highly-customized "whips" if they're only leaving town for a week or two, yet they also want full "street cred" in the town they're visiting, even if it's only for a few days. After all, how will anybody know they rock/run/rub a fixed-gear if they can only borrow or rent a geared bike? Remember--many of these people have taken lifelong fixed-gear vows, promising to be "fixed forever" (kind of like a neutered cat). This is not a vow that's undertaken lightly.

So until some fixed-gear boutique catches on to the need for a fixter service that combines elements of Echappe Equipment and Netflix (perhaps it could be called "Netfixed") you can make big money "turning out" your own fixed-gear. Okay, well maybe not big money--judging from the above it looks like the going rate for "street cred rental" is only $8 a day--but these days every cent counts. And 10 days at $8 a day is $80. (Or twice what it would cost to just buy this thing.) I'd actually consider renting this person my own personal Empire State Courier, but he does specify "track" and I'm sure the slightly more relaxed angles of the Perscattante would be a deal-breaker.

But what if you don't have a spare track bike to pimp? Well, a reader forwarded me the following post, which proves that a German luxury car will do just as well:





IM DRIVING TOUR OF CALIFORNIA IN MY NICE BENZ, HELP WITH GAS! (Bay Area TOUR OF CALIFORNIA)
Reply to: comm-1017760015@craigslist.org [?]
Date: 2009-02-02, 10:57AM PST


HI, I'm working as a photo-journalist during the Tour of Cali and will be most likely following the whole tour, so if you want to see part or most of it, or just want a ride from A to b, take a look at where it is going and if it works out, we can be travel companeros.

My 4 door MB 190e has a/c sunroof, all electric, stereo CD/MP3 and tinted back windows, its a 4 cylinder 2.3 liter and rides very well.

BTW: I'll be taking two people max, I want it to be comfy, asking $25/person/day for gas, oil, maintanence--thank you! And please be a bit of a neat freak, no slobs in or during my ride ;) ;(
and you'll have to have modest luggage, sorry!
andrew
cell 415-216-5501

p.s. i sent the wrong link out to everyone and now anyone can edit this! yay!
p.p.s i like kittens!

I have a strong suspicion that the photography thing is simply a ruse and that this ad was posted by none other than Rock Racing owner, pants magnate, and pending has-been Michael Ball. Things have been tough over in the Rock camp--so tough, in fact, that the team is "rolling" Kestrels now. (Rock does not "rock" as that would be redundant, nor do they "run" or "rub." Rock "rolls.") If you're unfamiliar with Kestrel, it is a brand that was once a mere notch or two lower than Serotta in the dentist-bike hierarchy, but has since tumbled from grace and is now available from both bikesdirect and Performance. I'm sorry to see Rock Racing didn't take my Windsor suggestion, but it is good to see they're being budget-minded. Most likely, though, Ball's reckless decision to opt for the Dura Ace-equipped Kestrel over the Ultegra SL-equipped Windsor has torn a sizeable hole in his budget, and he's now being forced to take on passengers so he can follow his own team.

And Ball isn't the only "celebrity" feeling the pinch. Actor, singer, filmmaker, and all-around renaissance douche Vincent Gallo is also looking to make a few bucks wherever he can. Another reader informs me that he's put his personal Brooklyn Machine Works on eBay. Sadly, moreover, it failed to find a buyer:





This may have been due at least in part to the fact that Gallo has taken the opportunity to re-tell the entire story of his life in the item's description:




For Sale: Brand new, un-ridden Brooklyn Machine Works handmade 5 speed road bike. Brooklyn Machine Works is a spectacular boutique high-level bicycle manufacturer in Brooklyn, New York. Its owner, president and designer Joe Avedisian has been a friend of mine since he was a young teenager growing up in lower Manhattan. During that period, I was racing Formula II Grand Prix motorcycles and Joe and his young buddies were BMX maniacs terrorizing New York City on their bicycles. Joe and a few of his friends got into BMX on the competitive level. Joe is a fantastic bicyclist. During my motorcycle racing days I was doing a lot of work with metal, including welding, fabricating, and finish work. As Joe got older he got more and more interested in the engineering and construction of bicycles and sometime in the early 90’s he hand built his first bicycle. It was incredible. He brought it to my apartment on Elizabeth Street and asked me to do a custom finish and invent a logo for his company, which he decided would be called Brooklyn Machine Works. The bike was called “The Central Park” and Joe and many of his friends frequently went on bike rides in Central Park after dark, riding crazy free style through a very dimly lit Central Park. My concept for painting his first frame was to finish the bike in glow in the dark white. In the daytime, the color was a beautiful pearl white and in the nighttime it would glow fluorescent green. I mixed a highly concentrated level of fluorescent powder in an Imron base coat and achieved a spectacular finish. By hand, in black enamel, in a script font I painted Brooklyn Machine Works onto the frame. Joe rode this bike for many years and when he finally got his company off the ground and was doing well he gave this first prototype bike that we worked on together to me as a gift. About a year ago I decided to have Joe build me a new bike. I was quite detailed and specific about what I wanted. Basically I wanted a high tech lock up bike that I could ride around New York City and lock up without the bike drawing too much attention from thieves. This bike would be super engineered and be fitted with some of the finest parts but I would have everything as minimal as possible and have it finished in flat black powder coating to dull down its charisma while still expressing a sophisticated aesthetic. During the period of designing and manufacturing this masterpiece I moved permanently to Los Angeles in an industrial neighborhood downtown. I had the bike shipped here and since having it here for several months, I have never ridden it. In New York City I rode a bicycle every day, but in LA I’m just not into it, and thus this masterpiece has never left my house and has never been ridden by anyone. Rather than move it around my house like a piece of furniture, I have decided to sell it. Joe Avedisian has learned a lot from me and though the bike should have been given to me as a gift out of respect the way folks gave gifts to Don Corleone, Joe decided to charge me a hefty fee for the bike. I won’t go into details about how high Judas Joe’s price was. I’ll simply say that I think of it as a gesture of charity, keeping an engineering fanatic and his wonderful company afloat. In any case, my loss is your gain because no bicycle in the world that is in current production is better, cooler, or more beautiful than one built by Brooklyn Machine Works. The bike is set up with : *** Sram 5-speed rear coaster hub****, *** kick brake only*****. frame size is 52.cm***. ****68 mil bottom bracket****. ****Front hub is a Paul's Precision****. Thomson seat post***. *****Crank Brothers pedals****. *****Brooklyn Stem*****. *** Steel frame***. ***170 Sugino crank***. ***700 x 23 Vittoria tires ZAFFIRO***. ***Seat SDG*** .............. PICK UP IN LA IS ACCEPTABLE. ALL OTHERS TO PAY FOR ALL BOXING AND SHIPPING FEES. GOOD LUCK.

It must sadden Gallo terribly that not only did he not receive any money for his bicycle, but he also didn't receive any recognition. It would appear from the Q&A that the only person even remotely interested in the bike had absolutely no clue who he was:

Q: hey, i was just wondering how tall you are? just need to see if the size 52 would fit me. what year is this? and why is called the GALLO? isn't it a gangsta track? are there are any dings, scratches, rust etc. on the frame? thanks!

A: I am 5 feet 10 1/2 inches. The bike was built one year ago and has never been ridden and is 100% mint without any issues.

At least Gallo answered the question sincerely instead of going all Christian Bale on him.

And what of Brooklyn Machine works? Not only is Gallo struggling to sell his, but noted fixed-gear freestyler and streetwear enthusiast Prolly has also defected in favor of a giant purple hybrid from Milwaukee. Worst of all, the most famous of all BMW owners, Kanye West, has publicly admitted that he can't even ride his Gangsta Track:



Yes, braking can be difficult on a brakeless bike. Personally, I think Kanye would be much more comfortable astride a Specialized Vienna Deluxe, though I suppose the fact that the bike sports a "street cred" factor in the negative double digits means that's probably not going to happen.

Fortunately, some members of the hip hop nation aren't afraid to embrace practical dork bikes. Take Mr. Theo, for example. A reader has forwarded me this video in which he teaches people how to ride the buses of Louisville, KY with their bicycles, and I think you'll agree that it quite literally raises the bar:




If there's one thing our community needs, it's more cycling-themed instructional videos in rap form.

An Ode To The Winter Bike

J.D. Salinger once said:

"The hardest thing about writing is laying down that first line.  So every morning I sit down, crack my knuckles, and type, 'fuckityfuckityfuckfuckfuck.'  After that the prose practically flows from my fingers like beer piss.'"

Please note the above quotation it completely made up.  I don't want to get in trouble again.

fuckityfuckityfuckfuckfuck

Right, so back in the spring of 2017 I signed on with New York City advocacy organization Transportation Alternatives to write their "Bike Forecast."  The idea was you'd wake up, pour yourself a piping hot mug of Bike Snob coffee:

(It makes a great holiday gift!)

Then you'd peruse the Bike Forecast and get caught up on the weather, bike-related news, DOT advisories, etc. before heading into the New York City street fuckery.

(Also somewhere in there you'd go to the bathroom, but I don't need to walk you through the whole process.)

Anyway, I mention this because this morning marked the final Bike Forecast post, and going forward the bike commuters of New York City will have to read something else while going to the bathroom.  And while I'll miss curating the Forecast--it was as much a part of my routine as going to the bathroom--no longer doing so will afford me more time to spend over here on this blog, and now that I look around the place I realize it sure could use some upgrading.  Maybe I'll even install a bidet.

 Stay tuned.

In the meantime, I will continue to cement my position as the World's Most Thorough Bike Reviewer.  For example, we are now well into year four of my ongoing review of the Milwaukee road bike, which I received way back in 2015:

Well, a lot's happened since then.  Disc brakes took over, gravel bikes got big, and also a certain real estate developer became president.  (Coincidence?  I think not.)  And yet I'm still cranking away on the Milwaukee, and I still love it.  Here it is on the Col du Maison de Snack earlier this week:

Basically, the Milwaukee is a classic road bike with a sporty/racy geometry, except it also takes medium-reach brakes so you can fit it with wider tires and/or fenders--you know, all the stuff you "need" disc brakes in order to do.  (I have nothing against disc brakes, but if you don't feel like making the switch because you appreciate the simplicity of rim brakes or you have like 20 years worth of spare rim brake parts to go through it's good to know there's still a bike out there for you.)  In my time with this bike our relationship has changed and evolved: at first I basically used it as a "gravel" bike (mixed-terrain rides), but as I became a plus-tire convert and eventually a full-on Jones cult member I forewent the Milwaukee for those sorts of rides and instead outfitted it with skinny tires and fenders for messy-weather road riding.

"Winter road bike" is not a glamorous career for a bicycle, but in a place like New York it is an essential one.  From December through April it's crucial to have a bike for those days when the trails are too snowy or muddy, and the roads are rideable yet wet with snow run-off and strewn with salt.  Wide tires are not especially necessary during this time (you're not taking off-road detours when it's 40 degrees and the trails are slushy), but full-coverage fenders are, and a bike like this will see you through all but the very worst days.

Of course, conditions like these take their toll on bikes and components.  In fact, by the time the fall rolled around the Milwaukee was in rough shape, so I sidelined it until I had a chance to give it an overhaul.  Then December rolled around and I needed my winter road bike, at which point I decided it was silly to put new stuff on a bike that was just going to be subjected to months of salt and road spray, so I lubed the rusty chain, played with the derailleur until it would shift into all the gears again, and hit the road:

Yes, there's about 200 grams of extra grime and sludge on this bike, but it's still operating pretty smoothly, all things considered.  Really, the only issues are: 1) That the front shifting requires a little extra force, possibly due to the bent derailleur I had to subsequently un-bend, or possibly due to the digger I took on the Old Croton Aqueduct when I broke my thumb, or, most likely, both; and 2) the rear hub is super draggy:

I bought this hub as part of a second-hand wheelset many years ago, and being overbuilt as Chris King components are, it's now on its second rim with plenty of life in it.  At the same time, even after opening it up and lubing it it's always been draggy to the point that the chain will droop and hit the chainstay if I backpedal.  So I've basically relegated it to winter duty, where performance is secondary to imperviousness to the elements.

Other issues I've been loath to address include this unsightly gap between fender and rear tire:

Basically, these are the same fenders that were on my old Scattante:

Because of the way these fenders are designed you've basically got to remove the stays and cut them in order to get everything lined up perfectly.  Being the lazy person I am I was of course reluctant to bother with all that again, so when I put them on the Milwaukee and they didn't interfere with the tire I figured that was good enough and that was that.

The bar tape is also in really rough shape:

I've been meaning to change that, but the more I think about it, the more I feel like the proper attitude is, "Why bother?"

The one thing I will change before riding it again are the brake pads, which are virtually nonexistent:

I was easily one or two wet descents away from metal-on-metal, though fortunately I had my draggy Chris King hub to help slow me down.

Nevertheless, the Milwaukee still manages to emit a faint glow of class from beneath the grunge, thanks in part to the raised stainless downtube badge:

And head badge:

In a way it's a real shame I subject it to this sort of treatment.  This is a reasonably priced frame and fork made out of good quality tubing by Waterford and is well-deserving of a Campagnolo group and some fair-weather prancing about.  (Yes, I'm a born-again Campagnolo fan thanks to my New-To-Me Titanium "Forever Bike.")  Indeed, it appears the Potenza group is available in silver:

Milwaukee offer a whole bunch of colors, but seems to me you pair that with one of these and you've got yourself an extremely genteel Fred chariot:

That being said, apart from the aforementioned front shifting issues, the 10-speed 105 stuff on this bike has held up very well, and as a bonus it's also silver.  (I do like silver road bike groups, which I imagine won't be available much longer.)

And while I'm at it, I might as well pivot to another long-term bike review subject, that being the Brompton:

On Monday I rode it to the radio show, and yesterday morning I was sitting on the couch and staring at the wall like I usually when a text message reminded me I had a dentist appointment in like an hour.  Yikes!  Fortunately the Brompton was still sitting by the front door, so I grabbed it and off I went.  I didn't even bring so much as a lock, which was totally fine since I just left it in the waiting room while they went at my pearly yellows with the belt sander.

See that?  A Brompton will pay for itself in preventative dental maintenance alone.  Without it I'd probably have skipped the appointment and my teeth would eventually have fallen out.  Then I'd need to pay Renovo to make me a set of wooden ones...

Hand Luggage: Bike Builders and Lady-Killers

As you may know, this past weekend Indianapolis, IN hosted the 5th annual NAHBS (which of course stands for National Association of Ham Butchers' Soiree). For the fifth consecutive year, I failed to attend, since I don't really feel the need to spend time and money in order to slobber all over lugs. Honestly, I'm not much of a lug-slobberer anyway, and I don't really understand why people get so excited about them. Lug-slobberers are the same kinds of people who get excited about things like wine and furniture design and who spend $200 on architecture books.

But I'm sure if I did like to stand next to bikes, nod appreciatively, and make remarks such as, "My, what exquisite lugwork!" I'd have had a smashing time. I'm also sure my saliva glands would have been working overtime in the presence of something like this, which includes not only "exquisite lugwork," but also chrome, wood, leather, and rivets, which is enough to cause even the most finicky lug-slobberer to drown to death in his own drool:



Yes, it's the bike porn equivalent of PVC fetish clothing. But it wasn't all lugs at the NAHBS. There were also TIG welded bikes, and crabon bikes, and titanium bikes, and so forth. And of course no NAHBS would be complete without impossibly lavish "townie" bikes that cost more than your town:

I'm not sure who in 2009 has both money to buy such a bicycle and a job to ride it to, though I suppose it really doesn't matter since Sacha White's wait list is something like five years long. Who knows? Perhaps by 2014 we'll be living in a new age of prosperity. So if you're prone to the sort of optimism that borders on complete delusion, go ahead, queue up for a Vanilla. Don't worry about it getting stolen--crime will be a thing of the past in 2014. Also, the fenders will help keep you dry during all those pesky money storms, and the wide tires will offer a smooth ride and sure grip on roads of gold bullion.

But you don't have to wait until 2014 for a really expensive bicycle. Serotta, the company that makes dentists drool so heavily they need to fire up their saliva aspirators, also showed its dental dream bike, the MeiVici AE:


Ironically, by outdoing themselves once again, Serotta may have sown the seeds of their own undoing. At just a hair (or a strip of dental floss) below $8,500 for the frame, fork, and seatpost, even a dentist might think twice before buying one. Actually, a reader informs me that at least one dentist has gone so far as to take up the welding torch himself:


Chuck Sadilah's can-do attitude is an inspiration to dentists everywhere. By seizing the means of production, this one man may have taken the first crucial step in breaking Serotta's stranglehold on the dental industry. Perhaps we are on the verge of a new age of empowerment in which frame building is taught in dental schools. I only hope that Serotta's secret strike force doesn't reach him first. Their strongarm tactics are well-known in the world of cycling, and Sadilah wouldn't be the first dentist to leave for a "weekend for two...at one of the CTS training centers," never to be heard from again.

However, I'll admit I'd be less cynical about the NAHBS if I were actually in the market for a handmade bicycle. As it is, I must make do with my Ironic Orange Julius Bike, and my Perscattante, and various other pedestrian bicycles completely free of "exquisite lugwork." Yes, in these trying times, the only wait list many of us deal with when purchasing a frame is waiting for an auction to end on eBay. If you're one of these cyclists, take solace in the fact that things could be worse. You could actually be riding a bicycle that's been fished out of a canal in Amsterdam:

This picture was forwarded to me by a reader in Holland, and I suspect that many of these bicycles will wind up being sold for hundreds of dollars on Craigslist as "vintage Dutch commuter bikes." Even that bag would probably fetch a tidy sum, as it's fashionably pre-distressed, and nothing says "street cred" like the stench of canal water.

Really, when you think about it, buying a bike on Craigslist isn't much different from fishing it out of a canal anyway. Both endeavors are distasteful and unpleasant and leave you feeling slimy afterwards. However, there's a key difference between selling a bike on Craigslist and simply throwing it into a canal. The difference is that, due to the present popular obsession with fixed-gears and singlespeeds, you must specify whether the item you're selling is fixed-gear or singlespeed compatible, no matter how ill-suited to either use it may be:



1992 Bridgestone RB-2 Frame + Fork 62CM - $200 (Brooklyn Heights)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-02-23, 3:02PM EST

Up for sale is a 62CM 1992 Bridgestone RB-2 Frame + Fork. Great condition with minor scratches and wear. For more info on the bike and frame geometry, please see http://www.sheldonbrown.com/bridgestone/1992/1992.pdf.

If interested, I also have a Soulcraft Convert Single Speed Chain Tensioner, if you are interested in converting it to a single speed. It sells on JensonUSA.com for 91.00. I will include it for an extra $50. Please email me with any questions. Thanks!

It's a sad day indeed when you can't sell a perfectly serviceable road frame with vertical dropouts without making some kind of provision for singlespeed use. But you can't really blame the sellers. You can't hope to sell a frame anymore without potential buyers asking you if it's singlespeed or fixed-gear compatible, so you might as well just save everyone the trouble.

And as bad as the obligatory singlespeed/fixed-gear provision may be, it's nowhere near as bad as out-and-out racism and sexism:






White Male Bike - $300 (Mamaroneck)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-02-27, 1:22PM EST

Have a beautiful PEUGEOT white male bike for sale -

Ride well. Good for road and bike races. 34" high.

Have curved handlebars and locking piece for holding things in back.

Must arrange for pick-up. CASH ONLY!! NO Phone Calls.

Why should a crappy Peugeot with "curved handlebars" and a "locking piece for holding things in back" be reserved only for white males? Talk about being "excluded by the patriarchy of bike culture"! Every person should have an equal chance to purchase this exquisitely-lugged piece of French history, whether you're a white male or a Black Helmut:




You pedestrian, me biker, corner of 15th St. and 1st Ave Friday - w4m - 28 (Union Square)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-02-28, 8:41PM EST

Friday evening around 5:30PM I was riding my bike the wrong way (bad, yes, I know!) on East 15th street and stopped for you at the corner of 1st Avenue. You were with a friend walking up 1st Ave. You had a cute smile and I smiled back and said hi. I was on a folding bike, wearing a black trench coat and black helmut.

We've met Black Rob's older brother Black Phil on Craigslist before, so it's good to make the acquaintance of their transatlantic cousin, German hip-hop sensation Black Helmut, as well. Black Helmut is of course known for wearing a black trench coat. He also has gold teeth and a way with the ladies:



Messenger with the teeth of Gold - w4m - 26 (Midtown)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2009-02-27, 3:58PM EST

I was crossing the street when you nearly bumped into me with your 2 wheel wonder. It was at that point that you flashed your pearly... umm “golds?” and called me luscious. I cant stop thinking about that wonderful moment in time and keep on ordering bike messengers in the hope that you will be the one to deliver my bundle of joy... YOU!

If this is you, describe what I was wearing (hint: PETA hates me!) and lets make this work.

Only Black Helmut is possessed of the suave insouciance to turn a near-collision into a seduction by calling his victim "luscious." (Incidentally, the second-most oft-heard phrase at the NAHBS, after "exquisite lugwork," was "luscious welds.") I don't know Helmut personally, nor did I witness the collision, but if PETA hates her she was probably wearing something like this:

Sadly, things didn't go so well for this fellow, who attempted to seduce his quarry by not being able to afford to buy beer at a show:



ninja sonic concert last saterday... - m4w - 26
Reply to: pers-1056234040@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
Date: 2009-03-01, 10:15PM EST

you were at the concert at the shank last sat, lost in the crowd, I was tall dark and handsome in a black tee shirt,, drinking pbrs out of my bag. I rode there on a yellow track bike. We never spoke, I wish I could have you on my arm at cheap hipster shows every weekend, to bad it's hard to talk when the music is so loud, were you looking for me too? Your pick gets mine...


Right--black t-shirt, drinking PBR, riding a track bike, at a show in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. I'm sure he stood out like a lugged steel frame at the NAHBS. If he really wanted to reel in the ladies, he would have ridden this proud beast (forwarded by a reader):


There's nothing terribly original about track bikes, lugged or otherwise. So when it comes to getting noticed, Y-Foil around?