Wild Kingdom: The Primal Nature of Cycling

If you're reading this right now, I'm willing to bet you're a human being. (If you're licking this blog instead of reading it, you're probably a cat or dog or other common house pet.) Assuming I'm right and you're not a hyper-intelligent terrier, you should go ahead and give yourself a hearty congratulations for being a member of the human race. Our accomplishments are many, and the length of the Dachshund of Time is riddled with the swollen ticks of our accomplishments. Just a few awesome things humankind has "dropped" over the centuries include:

'Da Wheel:




'Da Catapult:




'Da Cotton Gin:

(I don't know what one is but in social studies I learned Eli Whitney invented it.)

Shrimp Cocktail:



And, of course, culturally insensitive ice dancing:



As amazing and indispensable as all these things are though (especially the ice dancing, arguably the pinnacle of human achievement), it's important that we maintain some perspective. Sure, we're amazing, but we can't ice skate around acting like we're Lobster's gift to the planet Earth. We may be able to launch our shrimp cocktails for miles thanks to our mighty catapults, but underneath our aboriginal bodysuits we're simply animals like any other. Who are we to say we're better or more important than the proud puma, the crafty lemur, or the wily phosphorescent jellyfish? What if animal husbandry only seems like our idea, but in reality it is the animals who are husbanding us, and one day our cows and chickens will seize our cotton gins and turn them against us?

The truth is our skyscrapers and bridges are only so many beehives and beaver dams. If you need proof of this, look no further than the world of cycling. To ride through the park on an unseasonably warm day is to visit a zoo in which the various cycling breeds display themselves in uncomfortable proximity to each other. Roadies whizz by like gazelles; frustrated mountain bikers hunch over their riser bars like pensive gorillas as their knobbies thrum away on the pavement; and that group of guys who don't ride and hang out by the benches all day with their Colnagos and Mercatone Uno jerseys preen like peacocks, their unworn Vittorias as yellow as the day they bought them back in 1998.

Consider also the world of professional cycling. What is more naturalistic than a bike race, in which a group of riders compete in sperm-like fashion to be the first to reach the ovum of victory? The most potent of these riders is the one who can continue to perform day after day, and remain fertile after the three-week courtship ritual that is a Grand Tour. Such riders often choose to adorn themselves or their equipment with symbols of their potency, as is the case with Alberto Contador's new saddle, which many readers have alerted me to over the past couple of days:

(Image via PezCycling News)

"There aren't many guys who can pull off a saddle like this," reads the caption, though the manner in which the victories are bursting forth from the tip of the fingerbang like male issue is more evocative of "pulling out" than of "pulling off." This saddle is a bold message to the rest of the peloton. It says, "I am the dominant male, and if you refuse to acknowledge this I will assert my dominance by administering a palmarès 'facial'. Furthermore, my wins and my seed are so abundant that I can squander them in a demonstrative fashion." At the same time, the placement of the tip of the finger in the taintal vicinity provides Contador with additional impetus. And if all that were not enough, his name is also rendered in an approximation of the Prada logo:

But as intimidating and luridly suggestive as this saddle is, it could also indicate a rider on the defensive. If you read Cycling Inquisition or various Internet forums you may have seen Contador wearing this very puzzling t-shirt:

"Help me!," reads the t-shirt. "My girlfriend wishes a menage a trois. ...She, my ass and me. But I don't want to climb on the bed!" Now this is not the shirt of a champion. Again, the meaning of the message is ambiguous, but the most likely explanation is that Contador's girlfriend wants to do something to his ass and he's reluctant to comply. However, a true champion would not cry out for help in this situation. Rather, he would assert total control. "I'll determine who fingerbangs whom and in which orifice!," his shirt should have said. You wouldn't catch Mario Cipollini in a shirt like that. Assuming you actually manage to find him wearing anything at all, it would probably be a message more along these lines:

(Cipo to fan: "Can't say I didn't warn you.")

The best boasts are the ones that also absolve the boaster of any responsibility. (Though I don't think Cipo actually has a choice--he may have to wear that as a condition of his parole.)

Speaking of suggestive messages and fearlessness, some people might be afraid to read an email like this:

However, as a highly occasionally paid cycling blogger I am not one to shirk responsibility. The email was indeed from the so-called "Bike Fag," and it contained a link to the following eBay auction:


And yes, the the seller does claim the frame is made from Reynolds "butt tubing:"
As it happens, I recently read an article in "Rouleur" about Reynolds, but nowhere did it say they made "butt tubing" or really any kind of medical equipment. Still, if you're the winner, you might want to treat the frame with something a bit stronger than frame-saver just in case.

Wondering if any other bicycles were made from "butt tubing," I consulted a popular search engine, which led me directly to a Thai website. I know what you're thinking, but believe it or not the site was entirely bike-related and confirmed the existence of bicycles that were not only made from "butt tubing:"

But also equipped with something called "Boipace:"

At this point you may be tempted to chide me for making gratuitous references to sex acts and the human anatomy, but I maintain that disregarding such things is to deny our true animal nature. Is not such denial at the heart of pretension? Do we not laugh at the "Fixie Crew" because of the absurdity of attempting to make the simple act of grazing seem more meaningful than it actually is? And what is more animalistic than killing another animal and using its hide to adorn your "fixie," as in this Craigslist ad forwarded to me by a reader?

Fixed gear bicycle - black - $300 (Montreal West)
Date: 2010-02-19, 2:34PM EST
Reply to: [deleted]

Hey! Here is a refurbished bicycle with a peugeot frame (54cm from crank to seat post), and a peugeot center pull front brake. The grips are hand sewn elk hide leather. Seat is an old ADGA leather saddle from another peugeot, probably from 1973-1974 The crankset is shimano, and the rear hub and sprocket are new by iso. The 1/8" yellow chain is new. Gear ratio is 46/18 for a nice versatile ride, easy skids and tall hills. Alexrims DA16 wheelset. Tires in good condition. Bike hasn't been ridden since repainted, and has been fully cleaned and oiled. Included is a handmade stubby wood fender that I made, but you don't necessarily have to have if you want it removed. Same goes for the front brake, if you rather go brakeless.


I guess elk hide is Cork 2.0.