I Went For a Ride Today And You Didn't (Or Maybe You Did For All I Know)

After a long stretch of cold and rain the sun has finally returned and brung some warmth with it.  This meant that it was time to end my lengthy titanium Fredding streak and pivot back to the dirt.  And so this morning I donned my best jorts and headed out into the wilds of suburbia.

First I rode to Sprain Ridge Park, a.k.a "The Trails Behind The Mall," where I saw something that looked like an Instagram post, only it existed in three dimensions and was hanging on the gate:

Amazing how social media keeps evolving.  What will these tech companies think of next?

While my Jones SWB has become my default mixed-terrain rambler, today I felt like riding something lighter, and so I opted for my cherished artisanal singlespeed from Engin:

Like footwear, bikes are seasonal, and I tend to move back to the singlespeed around the time I start wearing flip-flops again.  And yes, you're goddamn right I wear flip-flops.  I mean, I wouldn't wear them to an office building in Midtown, but as a semi-professional bike blogger who's either at or in the vicinity of his home or else fucking off for a bike ride of some kind you're goddamn right I wear them whenever I can get away with it--and there's no more sublime pleasure than riding a bicycle in flip-flops.  (Unless you're using metal toe clips, of course.  Though I'm sure during Peak Fixie somebody got on their NJS special in flip-flops, attempted a skid, and learned the hard way to go back to their indoor soccer shoes.)

Anyway, my ride reminded me once again how fond I am of this particular bicycle, and how smart I was to move to my current neighborhood, from which I can access landscapes like this in a relatively short amount of time:

Frankly, there's no other place within the city limits from which you can attain such a favorable dirt-to-pavement ratio in the course of a 30-mile ride, and I sometimes lament the fact that I wasted some of the best cycling years of my life languishing in Brooklyn for so long.  (Though then again if I hadn't I'd have missed Peak Fixie and all those concomitant skidding mishaps, so I suppose it was all worth it.)

By the way, if you want to know #whatgearingyourunning, the answer is, "I have no idea."

It's been an eternity since I've bothered to change the cog, but I did service the rear hub a few years ago and it's probably a 32x20 or maybe even a 32x21.

As for #whatpressureyourunning, I'm at exactly three (3) stone per cubit.

Oh, and I DIDN'T WEAR A HELMET:

That was a fun visit.

New Outside Column, Plus Bike Tech Analysis!

I've got a new Outside column published on the World Wide Internet and it's about how just because you don't see something that doesn't mean it's not happening (and yes, that's a double-negative, or maybe even a triple negative):

And no, I don't know why the image they used is an ebike in the desert, so don't ask.

Moving on, this past Friday I engaged in BIKE TEST SCIENCE!  First of all, after a solid couple weeks of riding my new-to-me titanium bike on an almost-daily basis, on Friday I switched to my almost-brand-new plastic Fred Sled and was thus able to make a back-to-back comparison:

Before I go any further, I do realize this isn't really science, because:

1) I didn't use any deflection-measuring apparatus (although arguably my highly calibrated perineum might qualify);

B) Both bikes have different wheels and parts, in that the titanium bike features sort of a "greatest hits" of early 21st Century Fredness, whereas the plastic bike is all OEM aluminum and crabon save for the Dura Ace group.

Nevertheless, both bikes have tires of similar width, and both tires just happen to be from Specialized, though the plastic bike has Turbo something-or-other and the titanium bike has Roubaix something-or-other.  And, aesthetic considerations aside, the two bikes are actually pretty similar in terms of size and geometry.

Anyway, after comparing both bicycles back-to-back, I have drawn the following highly scientific conclusion:

The titanium bike definitely rides better.

That doesn't mean the plastic bike rides poorly; in fact quite the opposite.  It's a light, smooth, and great-handling bike, and I feel super-duper fast on it, even though I'm slow as a leaky GU packet on a cold day.  The titanium bike however is quite noticeably smoother on rough pavement, of which there is a lot around here.  So while the plastic bike is absolutely ideal for riding fast around the park in circles (which is precisely what I got it for), when it comes to choosing a bike for a long, meandering ride the titanium bike is a total no-brainer.  (I mean the titanium bike would also be great for riding around the park in circles I'm sure, but I'd need to change the cassette and chainrings for that at the very least, and I'd prefer not to do that since I'm enjoying the low gearing that's on there now, plus from what I can tell the new Campagnolo chainrings are both expensive and hard to find.)

But again, it's always possible that the parts are helping to inform this impression to some degree, and to know for sure I'd have to equip both frames with exactly the same parts, which I'll never, ever bother to do.

And while I was deep in the throes of science, I also briefly switched wheels on the titanium bike:

This I did for three (3) reasons:

1) I'd been hearing a troublesome noise, and I wanted to see if was coming from the wheels (it looks like it was, and so far ditching the dainty Mavic skewers for some proper ones seems to have done the trick);

B) I wanted to see if Campagnolo 10 speed will indeed shift a 10-speed Shimano cassette (It shifted with about 90% accuracy without my making any adjustments, so I imagine with a couple turns of the barrel adjuster it would work fine);

III) I wanted to see if the titanium bike had room for 28mm tires, which indeed it does:

I'd been worried about the rear brake as the spring protrudes beneath the caliper arms, but in practice it appears that won't be a problem.  This made me happy, because it means this 18 year-old titanium bike just happens to be pretty much exactly what I'd want if I were ordering a custom road frame, in that it has a threaded bottom bracket, a standard head tube, and adequate tire clearances.  (I mean sure, maybe I'd consider disc brakes since it's all going that way anyway, but in the meantime I'm more than happy with my primitive rime breaks.)

Then over the weekend I confirmed my test results by racing the plastic bike on Saturday and enjoying a peaceful morning ride on Sunday:

Well, peaceful apart from the goose attack.  See, all the mother geese were out with their goslings:

And at one point, on a narrow section of path where I had no choice but to pass a family of them somewhat closely, an enraged anatid came at me, hissing like a puncture.  Fortunately it didn't make contact, but as I closed my eyes and ducked this was all I could see in my mind:

The horror, oh the horror.

BSNYC Field Trip: New York, NY!

As I mentioned in my previous post, yesterday I traveled the length of the Bronx and Manhattan astride a fixie-type bicycle:

The bicycle is from State, it is from their "Core-Line" of bicycles, and it is in my possession because I recently wrote about it for a certain magazine.  I'll let you know when that gets published (or maybe you can let me know if you come across it before I do), but in the meantime I've been using this as my urban runabout and I must say I'm enjoying it.  Not only does riding the sort of bike I used to deride bring me back to the heady days of "peak fixie" when my blog was still relevant, but the truth is I used to enjoy riding the fixed-gear bicycles myself, and in fact the Ironic Orange Julius Bike was generally fixed of gear back in its heyday:

See, my disdain was never for the drivetrain itself, it was for all the silliness that came with it:

So now that all of that has calmed down I find can enjoy riding one again without all the baggage--even if I'm a good 25 years too old for the aesthetic sensibility of this particular specimen.  (I did consider at least switching the wheels for some less flashy ones I've got laying around, but as soon as I started rummaging through my old drawer o' cogs I realized I didn't feel like it.)  Hey, I've got nothing to prove, and I'm quite comfortable with the fact that everything about a balding man riding around on a bone-stock mail order fixie screams, "Aging guy who reads too many lifestyle magazines giving this 'Bike to Work Week' thing a try."

Also, I have a soft spot for cheap bikes, and this one's even cheaper than the Brand-X I rode at Eroica California this year.  Speaking of which, I keep getting emails like this from Chain Reaction:

Little do they know I wrote a goddamn feature about the bike in Outside magazine.

Yes, in a world full of marketing firms and user reviews sometimes the best press still happens organically.  In fact, on yesterday's ride, as I pedaled along the Hudson River Greenway in a state of sun-and-fixie induced bliss, I noticed with my peripheral vision what appeared to be a gathering of Freds hosing down a fleet of exotic crabon bicycles:

I stopped to investigate.  A sign read "Roula: Cycling Experiences:"

And inside riders were indeed indulging in the most lavish act a New York City cyclist can possibly imagine, that being washing a bicycle outdoors with an actual hose:

Roula, as it turns out, is a company that leads rides and rents high-end Fred Sleds, among other services--and yes, you can also give your bike a sponge bath:

Back when I was edgy and relevant I'd no doubt have ridiculed such an operation, but at this current point in my life I'm this close [indicates tiny distance with fingers] to storing all my bikes with them myself.  Even doing the bare minimum as I do, bike maintenance and curation takes up a disproportionate amount of my scant free time, and I can't really blame anybody for wanting to outsource it, especially if they have the means.  And while paying a company to store your Pinarello Dogma may seem extravagant, I can respect it a hell of a lot more than leasing and garaging a Porsche Cayenne.  (And sure, plenty of people are probably doing both, but every dollar put into the bike industry is a dollar put into the bike industry.)

Of course, while there is still room in today's digital landscape for organic, real-time, physical-world discovery, there's still an entire industry based on bringing things to consumers' attention--and ironically I was on my way to a "media pop-up brand experience" when I happened upon Roula.  This too is something I'd certainly have disparaged when I was edgy and relevant, but now that I spend much of my time cueing up kiddie videos on YouTube I was quite grateful for an excuse to head downtown, ogle grown-up toys, and exchange words with other adults.  And while not everything was bikey, a lot of it was:

Bicycles on display included this one from Alchemy:

I'm just a caveman, and your dual-suspension bicycles frighten and confuse me.  Still, I'm happy to look at them, and this one had a whole asymmetrical chainstay thing going that was interesting in an M.C. Escher-esque kind of way:

There was also a Ritte Snob, the stainless steel bicycle that, to my knowledge, they've never acknowledged is a nod to me:

It looks great up close, and I'm going to assume they've addressed the cosmetic issues because my prototype looks pretty funky these days, as I've previously pointed out:

See?

Again, I must stress that my Ritte is an early prototype, and I have no reason whatsoever to assume that the current production Snobs, which appear to be very well-reviewed, are subject to the same corrosion.

Nevertheless, now that I have two unpainted metal bicycles, the Ritte will soon be moving onto the next chapter in its life, and I'll let you know when it does.

My favorite bicycle on display by far however was this one, which also happens to cost like 10 or 20 times less than the other two bikes:

This is State's new chromoly single-ring 8-speed road bike, and it costs $549.99.  Sure, with a little effort you could probably put together a vintage road bike for less, but this strikes me as a phenomenal deal for anybody who doesn't have the time, parts inventory, or general know-how to do so--which, let's be honest, is most people.  (I'm all in favor of ready-to-ride bikes.)  It's also really nice-looking, especially in person.  Granted, without steering it onto the cobbles I don't know how it does in the chain-retention department, and yes, there's no boss for adding a front downtube shifter (I guess they don't want to spoil those "clean lines), but assuming the chain stays on I smell a hit:

Oh, there was also this e-mountain bike from Specialized, which was positioned in such a way I couldn't get a good shot of it because I suck at photography:

But you already knew that:

A full-suspension e-MTB is so far beyond my purview I'm not even going to attempt to say anything meaningful about it, though I suppose if I lived in a chalet in the Swiss Alps and needed to get around my 100-hectare estate to check on my dairy cows this one would be at the top of my list:

Okay, I know what you're thinking: "You're a total sell-out, Tan Tenovo!  All that crap is douche-tastic."  Wrong!  They're just bikes!  You want douche-tastic?  Check out what they had outside:

The company is Himalaya, and they basically modernize and refurbish Defenders:

I don't know anything about Defenders apart from the fact that they're iconic vehicles with a cult following, so I'll leave it to the auto-Freds out there to pass judgment:

They definitely looked good, but they also seemed like the kind of thing you buy with our Axe Capital bonus and then drive once a year with your bros when you're out in the Hamptons:

Oh, they also do refurbished forklifts:

Just kidding.

Oh, I should add they did offer to let me drive one, and while I briefly considered it I ultimately declined, for the simple reason that I was kind of grossed out by the idea of driving a car that costs over $100,000 on the Bowery.

Anyway, they were smart to have the douche chariots on hand, because it made the offerings from Silca seem impossibly modest by comparison:

Sure, your hardware store hex keys may work fine, but do they come in a presentation box?

The real danger here is you get addicted to the sublimely balanced hand-feel of this exquisite toolset and wind up carrying this fucking thing around with you on every ride.

Oh, and if you're a terminal pressure weenie, here's the Bluetooth mini-pump you know you want:

Sorry, I did't mean "pressure weenie," I meant "discerning cyclist:"

It is a really nice pump though, and they do offer an old-fashioned analog version which, while not cheap, certainly isn't wildly expensive if you keep it for 20 years.  (I have a Blackburn mini pump older than that so I don't see why this wouldn't offer the same long-term value.)

As for the $70 titanium bottle cage, it's amusing to think that if you had four bikes and equipped each of them with two of these you'd have spent more than one of those State bikes costs:

Also on display were the full suite of CBD products from Floyd's of Leadville:

Artisanal nutrition from Osmo:

Hipster binoculars, because birdwatching is trendy now:

And of course "adventure deodorant:"

Because you gotta smell good when you're out cruising in your custom Defender:

Anyway, inasmuch as I spend most of my working hours on the couch wearing yesterday's clothes this dip into the frothy waters of consumerism was oddly invigorating, and even the many, many bike lane obstructions couldn't bring me down.

Then again, maybe it was all the CBD oil.

Ti A Fredly Ribbon...

Today I took a ride all the way downtown and back again, and I will tell you all about it in due course--or at least a little bit about it.

Oh yeah, I was also riding a fixie:

Dear Fixedgeargallery... pic.twitter.com/lq4A82rII5

— Bike Snob NYC (@bikesnobnyc) May 15, 2019

It's a zen thing, you wouldn't understand.

In the meantime, I've received the following request:

Gladly!

Maybe I'm still in the new-to-me-bike honeymoon phase, but I've ridden this thing almost every day since taking delivery and I must say I'm smitten with it in a way in which few bikes have ever smote me before.  (I'm not sure any of the preceding sentence makes any sense, but what do you want from a free blog?)  Granted, I have yet to conduct any scientific testing, but I'm beginning to suspect that maybe there is something to this whole "magical ride of titanium" thing.  In fact, I like the bike so much I almost regret getting it, because it's got me thinking.  For example, I also love this bike deeply:

So how much more would I love a Jones made out of titanium?

Sure, maybe you can't really tell the difference through those fat tires...but what if you can? 

Even worse, what happens if I become so addicted to titanium that I simply have to have it at all times?  First you're upgrading all of your bike holdings to titanium, and then before you know it you're putting a down payment on that titanium toothbrush.

Guess I'd better spend more time on that fixie, it's the only thing still keeping me honest.

At This Point Just Call Them All "Bikes" And Be Done With It

Firstly, I wrote words, and they're in the Transportation Alternatives magazine, Reclaim--though you can read them on Medium:

And of course there's always the Transportation Alternatives Bike Forecast, which is curated by none other than Your's Truley.

I truly do put the "semi" in "semi-professional bike blogger."

Secondly, as a middle-aged dad living in the cycling backwater known as New York City, I'm pretty out of it.  As such, I only just learned that Shimano has announced the world's first dedicated gravel component group:

I suppose there was a time when I'd made fun of this--you know, back when I was funny.  Now, however, I simply root for the bike companies whatever they're selling.  Gravel groups?  $1,100 hardtail mountain bikes for kids?  Fixed-gear carbon fiber gravel-specific recumbents for your laid-back bikepacking adventures?

Hey, as long as it's not a helmet, I say bring it on.

Moreover, as far as the gravel stuff goes, what's not to like?  I mean yes, it's easy to laugh at gravel-specific shorts, but if the Freds need a special word to make it okay to use clothing with more pockets then who am I to complain?  Plus, when it comes to drop-bar bikes, component makers have traditionally offered lots of nearly identical stuff that differs only in price.  Mechanically speaking, the differences between, say, Dura Ace and Ultegra are virtually meaningless.  So the fact that you can now have the option of a single-ring setup with a clutch derailleur that doesn't require any kludges or workarounds is pretty cool.

Granted, I'm not particularly crazy about the name--do you pronounce "GRX" as "Gurcks" or "Jerks?"--but that's just a minor detail.

Nevertheless, while I'm no longer particularly angry at the bike industry (there are much better industries to be angry at), I still find the cyclists themselves incredibly annoying.  Specifically, in perusing the comments sections on the various Internet posts about these new components, I've noticed disturbing new phenomenon:

Humblebragging about how low your gearing is.

See, it used to be that everyone was using gearing that was way too big, and that was annoying enough.  Now, however, it seems that everybody's running gears that are too small in order to prove what rugged terrain they ride and how much crap they carry.  As far as I can tell, with GRX you can run something like a 31 in the front and a 34 in the back, and yet I keep seeing commentary along the lines of, "This GRX gearing is not low enough!  I have three WolfTooth adapters on my long-cage derailleur so I can run a modified 53-tooth front chainring as my lowest gear in the rear, and I've got a 13-tooth rear cog bolted onto the spider of my front crank, which is what you really for the climbs around here--especially when you're carrying a pour-over coffee maker in the pocket of your Rapha gravel shorts."

At this rate the low-gearing backlash is all but assured, and when that happens I've got two words for you: "fixie bikepacking."

Finally, speaking of fixies:

(Via the Twitter)

The Luna Fixed is a fixed gear styled electric bike. For the uninitiated, fixed gear bikes are generally minimalist frames lacking cable clutter and have their pedal input rigidly connected to the rear wheel without a freewheel, meaning if the bike is moving then the pedals are moving too.

But while old school fixies may be a timeless classic, the Luna Fixed offers a very 21st-century twist. A 400 W mid-drive motor and 250 Wh battery are both hidden in the 6061 aluminum frame of the unassuming bike.

Looks like a pretty cool bike, but I'm reasonably certain neither the designers nor the writer of the article have ever seen a fixed-gear bicycle before.