Trendcycles: Evolution or Reiteration?

Further to yesterday's post, in which I addressed the condom grip trend, an astute commenter by the name of "Fierce Panties" challenged me. "To say trend would imply that you have seen the [condom grips] more than once. Please clarify." Well, I admit that I was liberal in my use of the word "trend," and while I have seen a condom stuffed inside the hollow axle of a SRAM crank, I have not seen the condom grip apart from that one time. But rest assured, condom grips are a trend. In fact, it's an international trend. Another commenter from Barcelona (that's in Spain) points out that a company indeed markets handlebar condoms to protect riders who use their apparently filthy bike-sharing program:

Now, I don't understand Spanish (I took Creole in high school) so I ran the text through an online translator and learned the following:

That is Cyclean®? It is a disposable, sanitary, and protective case, that avoids the direct contact of our hands with the handles. Its use is recommended in bicycles or machines that are being utilized for many people. Why is necessary? One of the most important elements in our relation with the bicycle are the handles, where we support us, we catch, we touch, with our own hands. A so usual action, that is to be caught and to touch, itself should not become something that damage us. Cyclean® is an element that avoids the direct contact with the handle. That protects us? It avoids that the hands have direct contact with the possible filth. It avoids the contact with the humidity, sweat, etc. Barrier of prevention to possible contagions as: pinkeye, gastroenteritis, colds, etc. Cyclean® has been designed to provide hygiene and comfort.

I agree wholeheartedly that to be caught and to touch should not be something that damage us. I also eschew direct contact with the possible filth, and I live in constant fear of bicycle-borne pinkeye. Pinkeye is a dreaded affliction that breaks out wherever bicycles are shared. Cyclocross pits, velodromes, and the aptly-named "dirt demo" at Interbike are all hotbeds for pinkeye. The only reason you don't see it in the pro road peloton is that the mechanics change riders' bar tape on an almost daily basis. Otherwise pinkeye breakouts would be a common occurrence, and the uninformed observer would think the riders had been doing bong hits in the team bus.

Another international trend is fork-only locking and using filth to deter thieves (the third advantage of the condom grip). A reader in Gothenburg, Sweden has forwarded me this photo, which displays a bike that is not only locked by its fork, but also has a rear rack containing what appears to be used toilet paper and plastic bags:

Apparently, this bike has remained untouched for some time, despite the fact that it would be easy to steal. According to the photographer, it is also "right next to the city museum, where great Swedish inventions are on display." Coincidentally, we have a museum in Brooklyn where great Swedish inventions are on display, too. It's called "Ikea," and it's absolutely amazing. They even have tables that fold! I often park my Empire State Courier there, pile medical waste on it, and browse for hours. It's truly inspirational.

Meanwhile, back in the USA you'll find this bicycle, which was forwarded to me by a reader who offers a compelling analysis:



This cell-photo was taken in front of the Santa Clara County Hall of Justice and has been there for three days untouched. The bicycle owner must have lost whatever court case they had ridden to the court case for and must now be imprisoned. I'll bet his second biggest worry right now is the safety of his huffy (the first being how to get the soap off of the floor).

Or perhaps this bicycle securing job the work of a genius or just some human-spider spawn that casts a web over their beloved huffy but lacks the dexterity of fingers and opposable thumbs to tie knots?

I can't make a judgement as to the percentage of genius or arachnid of the owner as I haven't seen them. But it's worth it to note that the sort of sharp objects required to cut small diameter rope are not allowed in the courthouse so most people who pass by this bike won't be carrying them. This means that stealing this bike would require at least 35 seconds to unwrap all of the rope, make a small loop at one end and push the other end of the rope through that end before you could ride down Hedding street past the county jail on your stolen huffy with a lasso twirling above your head yelling "YEE-HAWWW!!!" loud enough to drown out the squealing drive train.

I agree that this bike's owner must be come kind of spider genius. In a sense, he's also using the "filth deterrent" method, since the word "Huffy" is nearly as repulsive as a used condom.

And speaking of international trends, the hottest one going at the moment is the pie plate. None other than Jack Thurston of London's The Bike Show informs me that Dawes is now offering a single speed/fixed gear that comes with a stock pie plate:

I'm guessing that the rear wheel has a flip-flop hub, though it's difficult to see whether the fixed side also has a pie plate. A flip-flop hub with dual pie plates would truly be an abomination. Meanwhile, also from England, comes this bike, which has a user-installed, fixed-gear pie plate:




Hi there Dennis Love the site. Thought it about time I sent in pictures of my cool whip. Started out as a £45 bargain Raleigh. Stripped off the gears, sprockets taken off by my LBS, and fitted a 14 toother. Like the breaks although back currently broken. Better learn to skip stop fast!! I'm rocking 42:16. This bike really is the cheese - fierce and fast. I've left the protector on - had my fair share of chain off moments and I want to look after those spokes. I'm around Birmingham, England. Hit me up if you see me. Cheers then.

Unfortunately, I'm having trouble believing that this is a naturally-occurring FGPP. My suspicion is that this particular "Cool Whip" is a plant. I agree that it's "the cheese" (which is what Cool Whip becomes if you leave it out in the sun), but the use of "breaks," "rocking," and "fierce" in the same submission just seems too unlikely to be sincere. Actually, it sounds almost exactly like Perscattante's catalog copy for their Courier Series. But maybe I'm just in denial. For years I dreamed of seeing an actual FGPP, and now when I do I refuse to believe in it. It's sad--I should be ecstatic, but instead I find myself experiencing a "chain off moment" of the soul. Perhaps I need some kind of spiritual pie plate.

And really, if the pie plate is a symbol of anything, it's a symbol of mainstream acceptance. For a bike to come stock with a pie plate means it was probably mass-produced either by or for a large company. Yet even though we're only now beginning to see pie plates appear on road-going singlespeed/fixed gear bikes, their metaphorical "pie plate moment" really came long ago.

But the fixed-gear trend has since begat the fixed-gear freestyle trend. Will that too see its "pie plate moment?" I don't know, but I do know that this is a watershed moment in the FGF world, since Milwaukee Bicycle Co. in conjunction with streetwear enthusiast and fixed-gear freestyle apologist Prolly is about to "drop" this:


In many ways, fixed-gear freestyling has been retracing the same steps BMX took 20 years ago, so it's hardly surprising to see the Potts Modification. Yet even for a staunch advocate of brakes like me, this bike raises a question: if fixed-gear freestyling is about being able to pull off tricks with a fixed drivetrain and no brakes, what happens when you add brakes to the equation? Doesn't the fixed drivetrain go from being the element that defines the bike to simply being a contrived handicap? If you want to do tricks and you've already got brakes, why not just go all the way and use a freewheel too? And doesn't that bike exist already anyway?


It seems to me that a fixed-gear optimized for tricks would look a lot different. Actually, that exists already too. It looks like this:


But those are both specialized bikes, and I know and appreciate that Prolly's motivation is a bicycle that one can use to participate in all the various facets of trendy urban cycling: fixed-gear freestyling; alleycats; bike polo; and even commuting. This would make it sort of a hipster Swiss Army Knife. But does that make it truly versatile, or just something with a small blade, a lousy scissor, and a magnifying glass you never use? Bikes seem to be at their best when they're somewhat specialized.

In any case, it will be interesting to see if the new Milwaukee becomes the basis for an entirely new bicycle segment or simply the flat brim fitted cap-wearer's equivalent of a hybrid. One thing, is for sure, though. With this bicycle the fixed-gear freestyler has finally divorced itself entirely from the track bike. Even the Brooklyn Machine Works Gangsta Track now looks quainly "tracky" in comparison. Will it be relegated to the bike rack of history, along with the hybrid and the mixte?



Whatever happens, things tend to work themselves out. Not too long ago, the forces of gentrification seized upon track bikes and started accessorizing them with candy colors and riding around on them while dressed like teenage girls. Finally, this fashion has actually found its way to the appropriate demographic, as you can see in this photo shoot from Teen Vogue, forwarded by a reader:


Now that makes sense.

It's All in the Details: Component or Crutch?

Well, I continue to receive entries for The Great BSNYC/RTMS Fyxomatosis Photo Parody Contest (presented by the Gourmet Cheese of the Month Club), and the contestants continue to outdo themselves. Of course, things did get a bit bawdy yesterday, so (with one exception) I'm going to wait a bit before sharing them with you. Just consider it a refractory period. However, there are two important things I do need to mention with regard to the contest.

Firstly, Stevil Kinevil of HTATBL (as well as GWCTOH as of late) has generously offered to "sweeten the pot":

That's right. In addition to the pie plate (and the smock, if you want it, but not the Rapha cravat, because I need it to pick up gross stuff like pie plates and dead mice) he'll also give the winner a beer cozy and a lucky elk tooth:



Please know that Stevil has offered to do this completely of his own volition, and I was deeply moved by his generosity since I'm sure these objects are very dear to him. So, just to recap, if you win you'll get: 1) a pie plate; 2) a dirty beer cozy; 3) a nasty animal tooth; and 4) a BSNYC/RTMS smock (which is really more of a booby prize).

Secondly, while I'm holding off on sharing the latest entries, I did mention there was one exception, and this is it:

Sure, I know I said I was taking a break from bawdy, but there's nothing "dirty" or "shameful" about the act of love when it's rendered artistically as it is here. You may have noticed that this image has been entirely created using that Pedalmafia bike builder thing. To be able to create such moving artwork with such a limited palette is nothing short of miraculous. It's like Jesus multiplying the loaves and the fishes, or like that Hanukkah lamp oil lasting eight days, or like Michael Ball somehow wringing a few more years out of a bunch of washed-up riders. Also, it uses hipster cysts for the pants yabbies. Truly inspirational. This person could very well have clicked and dragged his way to a free animal tooth.

Moving on, yesterday a reader asked an important question in the comments section:

I realize a properly adjusted der shouldn't drop a chain into the spokes, but it can be a fairly costly mistake when it happens. It seems you appreciate the value of clutter like brakes and bar tape, so why are pie plates such a no-no?

Note: earnest question, no criticism or irony intended.

Well, the answer is almost painfully simple, but then again the best questions are often the simplest ones and I feel it's worth answering. After all, this question made me think a lot about necessity, and the answer is that brakes and bar tape (or grips) are necessary, but pie plates are not.

Yes, plenty of people now ride around without brakes or any form of grip, but I maintain they're still necessary. If you want to get the most out of your bike, you'll use both of these things. (I've explored how brakes actually make you faster in the past.) More importantly, you use them while you're riding. The pie plate, on the other hand, just sits there idly waiting for something extremely unlikely to happen. In fact, chances are very good that this unlikely thing may never happen at all. In one way the pie plate is like a person sitting alone on top of a hill, night after night for years on end, waiting for a bunch of probe-wielding aliens to arrive in a spaceship. And in another way, it's like the person with a bomb shelter in his basement filled with a 20-year supply of water and canned tuna. And in both cases, they're so preoccupied with what might happen that they neglect their daily lives. (Like the pie-plated rider with a decrepit, rusty drivetrain and a derailleur that hasn't moved since "Risky Business" came out.)

After all, there are plenty of other things that can happen on the bike for which we don't make provisions. For example, it's not uncommon for your bars to rotate forward if you hit a nasty bump. This can be dangerous, especially during a race. Should you then put some sort of redundant device on your bicycle that further secures the bars in the event the stem clamp alone is not sufficient, like some sort of brace between the bottom of the brake levers and the headtube? Absolutely not. Instead, you should use a well-designed stem, tighten it sufficiently, and avoid dangerous road hazards--just as you should make sure your derailleur is adjusted properly.

And this is what is most insidious about the pie plate. It is a symbol of our lack of personal responsibility as a society, a giant plastic disc shouting "Save me, for I cannot save myself!" And unlike its frontal counterpart the "lawyer lip" it does not even have the decency to hide itself. Indeed, probably the last time a pie plate was even remotely necessary was when this photo of Fausto Coppi (forwarded to me by a reader) was taken:

You'll notice that Coppi is running ("rocking" hadn't been invented yet) a Campagnolo rod shifter here. Given that shifting with one of these was probably like trying to dial a cell phone with a pool noodle, the pie plate was certainly warranted. But those days are behind us now. By the way, Coppi died of malaria too, and you're probably about as likely to contract malaria while out on your ride as you are to shift your derailleur into your spokes.

But I suppose people have different ideas of what's necessary. Personally, I feel that fenders are necessary (for everyday bikes, not for race bikes), but plenty of people go without them. In fact, you're about as likely to see a fully-fendered bicycle in New York City as you are a pie plate on a fixed-gear. (This excludes old three-speeds, which pretty much always have fenders and which cling to New York City streetsigns like moss to trees.) And I'm not just talking about bikes that don't have the necessary eyelets or frame clearances for fenders. I'm talking about bikes with cantis and gaping, yawning spaces between the tires and stays that are inexplicably ridden in the rain with no protection whatsoever. And it's not like these people aren't putting other stuff on these bikes, either. Some of these bikes not only have bar-ends, but their bar-ends have bar-ends. I guess it's just because people only think about getting fenders when it rains, and by then they're already wet so they figure, "Why bother?". Still, when I see someone commuting in a downpour on a touring bike with a pie plate and no fenders it makes me want to weep.

Even more perplexing are people who ride without fenders in the city are people who ride with suspension. Another commenter from yesterday wrote:

Get over the fixed gear bashing. There's twice as many Mountain bike riders on the streets of SF than roadies and fixed combined. Don't hear you talking shit about these goof balls with their $600 front shox to absorb the occasional MUNI track.

My guess is that your ironic Orange Julius bike is in fact a custom Stumpjumper and you wouldn't know a single track from a heart attack.

Stump on, Snobby!

You still see this sort of behavior sometimes in New York City, but it's not nearly as common as it used to be. However, during the (first) heyday of purple anodized CNC componentry, customized mountain bikes that never saw dirt were common on the streets of New York City in much the same way that custom track bikes that have never seen a velodrome are common today. Similarly, just like owners of high-end track bikes now like to say, "Yeah, I really want to get out to the track but I just don't have time," owners of high-end cross-country bikes then would say, "Yeah, I really want to get out to some trails but I just don't have time." While these excuses might seem flimsy, I maintain they're quite valid. Hunting for that vintage Italian stem (or that purple anodized peace sign canti straddle wire hanger) can be extremely time-consuming.

In response to the aforementioned comment, Kale replied:

SF Riding:

Having lived in both places I can attest to the superior ability of the mtb in SF/BA. That aside, it's been pretty much impossible until the recent SSMTB trend to get a new mtb without 100mm or more squish stock, and if you want to put a (Surly/Kona) aftermarket or recycled solid, that's way above most people's ability (not to mention fixing a flat). However, the few, if any, mtbs in NYC are ridden by the hardest working Thai delivery people in the world. Those Schwinns, Iron Horses, and Pacifics are the only fully squish you'll see, they're definitely goof balls, and they outnumber roadies and fixters by at least 3 orders of magnitude.

I was glad to see Kale mention the mountain bike-riding food delivery person. Like any group of working cyclists, there's the rank-and-file, and then there's the elite. This is what the elite food delivery people in NYC ride:

Note the fenders, which are always mounted extra-high to accommodate suspension travel that isn't there. Note also the color-coordinated full frame-taping job, the skewers secured with hose clamps, and the downward-tilted saddle, which are also typical. (The saddle angle not only allows for easy mounts and dismounts when the rider is loaded down with six bags of food, but also allows some seatpost to remain exposed for aesthetic reasons, since these riders are often short of stature and generally use bikes that are at least two sizes too big for them. Perhaps most importantly, with that giant fender sticking out back there the only way off the bike is to slide off the front of the saddle.) Sometimes you'll even see road cranks used, which is the case here. These people do indeed work hard, in all weather, and they make absolutely no distinction between the street and the sidewalk.

Sadly, the days of the hardcore MTB-riding food delivery person may be numbered, because in the trendy parts of Brooklyn at least the "fixters" have begun taking their jobs. (I guess they're not content to just take their apartments.) So now when you order from restaurants in Williamsburg or Prospect Heights your food may very well be brought to you by someone with a degree from RISD who's riding an NJS track bike. Not that there's anything wrong with that, though I doubt the Honduran immigrants are getting their graphic arts jobs in return.

In the end, though, component choice all boils down to "Style Vs. Safety"--at least according to this Google Knol. The author makes some compelling points here, such as this one: "A brake is basically a training wheel – a crutch. When you have a fixed gear bike, the mere technology allows you to stop without one. A non-fixed bike doesn’t have this luxury. It NEEDS a brake to stop in any manner. But we’re not talking about non fixies. "

What about fenders? Are they crutches too?

Strange Customs: Art, Bikes, and the Apocalypse

"The customization of all of these bikes and the different people who ride them is fascinating to me." --Aaron Edge, Rain City Fix

Indeed. However, let's be honest. Choosing between vintage Italian and NJS, or between black and pink Deep Vs, or even between track drops and risers, isn't exactly customization. If that's customization then I suppose I customize my feet every morning when I decide which socks to wear. No, real customization is combining disparate components and elements, making them work together, and thus creating something truly unexpected and inspiring. A real custom bike cannot be measured on the Sense-o-meter or the Money-o-meter, because a real custom bike is art, and as such it defies quantification. Therefore, a real custom bike can only be quantified the way art is quantified, in that the true measure of its greatness is the intensity with which it stirs your soul.

Having said that, I bring you this, which was reverently photographed by a reader:

I realize a bike like this isn't for everyone, so if you're looking for a more traditional "dream bike" check out Fat Cyclist's raffle. But to me, this magnificent specimen not only stirs my soul, but it whips it up into a froth, spoons it up, and puts a dollop of it on top of a caffeinated beverage and serves it right back to me like some sort of cosmic barista. Put this in your coffee table book, Mr. Edge! The pie plate alone would be magnificent enough, but in concert with the Spinergy it's sublime, and in the context of the entire bike it's achingly beautiful. Like any true work of art, this bicycle is a window into universal truth, and as such it is open to infinte interpretation. My own is that it's a tragi-comic look at the folly of bicycle upgrading in particular and the futility of materialism in general. Alas, my only quibble is that I personally would have put a carbon fork on there too. But then again, to imply that I could somehow improve this bike is arrogance bordering on hubris. Also, while the carbon fork might help kill road buzz, it might also mute this bike's cosmic hum.

After all, if anything is going to save us from the Apocalypse, it's art. And the Apocalypse is as nigh as ever. (As if Rain City Fix weren't proof enough.) If the fixed-gear phenomenon is a party, then the Apocalypse is still at home primping and trying on different shirts. But rest assured, when it finally does choose a chemise, it will be on its way. In fact, another reader just sent me this:

I'll be damned if that isn't a Fixed Gear Pie Plate. The picture must have been taken in Hell, and clearly it's snowing down there since the dreaded FGPP has finally manifest itself. Of course, I am the type of person who looks the proverbial gift horse in the proverbial mouth (even if that horse is an alpaca and it's breathing fire from its nostrils), so I'm a little disappointed it's not one of those newer, plastic freehub-style pie plates. That to me would be the ultimate. But still, this is not a good sign. Nor is it encouraging that the bicycle has no pedals. That can only imply that the beast who rides it simply puts a claw or talon through the pedal holes in order to turn the cranks.

I wish I could explain this away as a fluke, but I also received this from yet another reader:

Is there a death knell louder than that of the instructional video? This should look great alongside your other videos about how to play the guitar and how to swing a golf club.

Well, actually, maybe there is a louder death knell. It would appear that Time has published an article about the Messenger Mania event at last Sunday's Harlem Criterium:

It's puzzling to me why a magazine as big as Time, if they wanted to run something about a messenger race, would cover this instead of the Cycle Courier World Championship in Toronto which was happening at the same time. (Not that I begrudge local messengers the coverage--far from it--but still.) I suppose maybe the writer had a cutesy idea for a story and didn't want to travel. Also, the writer is probably angling for a Pukelitzer, which is an annual prize awarded to the fluffiest piece of cycling-related journalism published in a mainstream publication. (I don't think she'll win, though. Even with lines like "The pros had slick helmets, fancy bikes and numbers pinned onto the backs of their shirts," she'll still have to compete with The Climb.)

But the most noteworthy thing to me about this article was the following quote, by none other than promoter John Eustice, regarding his inviting the messengers to come race:

"I almost look at them as the artists colonizing the big race," says Eustice, who organized the event. "When you want to make something cool, you bring in the artists."

Indeed you do. Hey, it worked for Williamsburg, why not for road racing? Yep, nothing's cooler than messenger culture. Someone really should put together a coffee table book.

Uncommon Valor: Protecting Humanity for Flock's Sake

When it comes to standing up for what we believe in, few of us have the determination, bravery and strength of character to take action. Sure, Al Gore may preach environmentalism, but he consumes more energy than the state of Delaware in order to travel around the country lecturing, and he leaves behind a bigger carbon footprint than Magnus Backstedt walking through the mud in his cycling shoes. And yeah, Mother Teresa may be a world-famous humanitarian, but what has she done since like 1997? Oh, I suppose the world's all better now, right Terry? Even I myself could stand to use a little less talk and a little more action. I may whine with the strength of a thousand Joy Behars, but for all my ranting about things like pie plates what have I actually done about it?

Fortunately for humanity, some of us still know when it's time to walk the walk--or in this case waddle the waddle. And sometimes, humanity must look outside of itself for protection. Indeed, Bryan Redemske of Omaha, NE informs me that there is a goose in Traverse City, MI who is attacking cyclists who ride with pie plates:

Now, I'm not a sentimental person, but I'm also not ashamed to say that when I first set eyes on this photograph I was moved to tears. Actual tears. This shot captures the sort of bravery that has heretofore only been conveyed by things like the Iwo Jima memorial and that painting of Washington crossing the Delaware. If only I could paint I would render this image in oils and give it pride of place above my television set (which is the most sanctified non-wheeled object in my home). The majesty of the goose's outstretched wings juxtaposed with the look of abject horror on the rider's face as he realizes that it is indeed too late to repent for his pie plate-loving ways makes me as proud to be a pie plateless cyclist as it's possible to be.

Lest you condemn me though for not empathizing with the cyclist, let me just say that I do feel for him. I've never been attacked by a goose myself, but I would imagine it feels something like being scraped at with a pair of emery boards while getting beaten with a couple of flannel shirts. (I suppose there might even be some carpet tacks involved as well--I don't know if those webbed goose feet have claws at the end of them as few have seen a goose foot up close and lived to tell about it.) But as cruel a fate as that may be, he knew perfectly well when he swung a Docker-clad leg over that gel saddle, flipped up the kickstand with the heel of his Rockport, and set out on his way to the comic book store that he risked feeling the cruel sting of Anserine ire.

So rather than mourn the fate of our wayward brother, who doubtless wound up laying on the ground in the fetal position moments after this picture was taken as the goose pecked violently at his pie plate, let us celebrate the worthiness of this water fowl. Let us also imagine our hero standing atop the now-pie plateless Bianchi, beating the air with his (or her--I know nothing of goose-sexing) mighty wings and honking in triumph. Thus, I am proud to confer upon this goose, for rising above the gaggle and displaying bravery in the face of extreme dorkiness, the BSNYC/RTMS Medal of Honor:

If anybody in Traverse City can get close enough to this thing to slip it around his neck I'd really appreciate it.

Pie In The Sky: A World Without Spoke Protectors

It is a beautiful Spring day here in New York. I’d like to say that it’s days like this that make New York a wonderful place in which to live, but that’s simply not true. It’s still the same hive of irritability–it just happens to be enjoying some nice weather. If anything, the sun and warmth just bring the abject nature of our existence here into sharper relief. Sure, some people become joyful and appreciative when Spring begins, but I’m not one of them. It happens every year, and it’s my right to simply expect it. It’s not like the Universe is doing me a favor or anything. Gushing about the Springtime is like paying for something that costs a buck with a hundred dollar bill and getting all excited when you get $99 back. Big deal. So as far as the nice weather goes, all I have to say is, “What took you so long?”

As a cyclist though, on a day such as this even a mind as blackened as mine is wont to wander. And once again, my mind turns to nation building. When the weather is nice I’d like nothing more than to forego my responsibilities and instead ride the length and breadth of our own land, perhaps stopping for some of our native cheese. But before this can happen there is much work to be done. As a people, there are certain evil weeds growing in our midst that must be extirpated. And like a stoner on a Wednesday afternoon, I’m ready to get my hands on some.

There is one weed that stands taller than all others. It’s more insidious than top tube pads. It’s more insidious than behind-the-saddle hydration and inflation systems. It’s more insidious even than TTMBLs. I’m talking of course about the pie plate.

Pie plates (also known as “dork discs,” “nerd coasters,” “Minneapolis frisbees,” “45rpm singles,” “idiot pucks,” and “moron shingles”) are like heavily intoxicated people and many triathletes in that they have no business being on a bicycle. Despite this, on my morning commute I see nothing but pie plates—it’s like sitting in some restaurant in hell where you’re constantly being passed by the dessert cart. And while each and every pie plate is offensive, some are more so than others. Here are just a few notable pie plate types in ascending order of egregiousness:

The Department Store Bike Pie Plate

I hate pie plates in any form, but expecting a department store bike not to have one is kind of like expecting a dog not to have bad breath. And while it’s offensive, when it comes to a department store bike the gestalt is offensive, so it’s pretty much pointless to single one thing out. A lot of these bikes also have huge cardboard labels displaying the wheel size still in the spokes as well as those plastic axle protectors that look like those little tables you sometimes get when you order a pizza. Frankly, in this case it’s the bike that’s the problem, not the pie plate.

The Hybrid Pie Plate

Generally speaking, the kinds of people who ride hybrids are not the kinds of people who fuss over things like pie plates or frame size sticker removal or tire label/valve stem alignment. In fact, they’re not even the sorts of people who align their helmets—they generally sport their foam hats way back on the head, like yarmulkes. So it’s somewhat unreasonable to expect them to remove their pie plates. Then again, I’m an unreasonable person. If you had the sense to buy your bike in an actual bike shop, you have the sense to remove (or ask the shop to remove) your pie plate.

The New Road Bike Pie Plate

Whether you know it or not, once you’ve bought an actual road bike you’ve subjected yourself to a certain level of scrutiny. It’s like running for office—everything you do is now a matter of public record and fair game for the press. If you don’t know the fundamental rules of cycling, that’s fine—as long as you learn them quickly. And Rule #1, before “Don’t sit on a stranger’s wheel” and “Don’t let a stranger ride your bike,” is “Get rid of the pie plate!”

The Old Road Bike Pie Plate

While I have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to pie plates, I also understand that not everybody realizes they need to be removed. Sadly, too few bike shops take it upon themselves to do it or to educate their customers. Hopefully, one day that will change, and I for one am trying to do my part by raising public awareness. But in the meantime I think a grace period between new bike purchase and pie plate removal is warranted. Let’s call it six months. By that time you should have either figured out your pie plate needs to go, or you should have had to remove or change your cassette for some reason, in which case (hopefully) logic would dictate a pie platectomy.

After that, though, you are in clear violation. I regularly see road bikes that are five, ten, even twenty years old that still have pie plates on them. If your bike has both downtube shifters and a pie plate on it, you are exhibiting a disregard for propriety that is nearly inhuman. Only a sociopath could be capable of such a thing. In fact, while I believe we cyclists should regulate ourselves, in this case I think the perpetrator should be turned over to the police. According to the controversial “broken window” theory, chances are someone with a yellowed pie plate on a twenty year-old bicycle is also guilty of something else. He’s probably also using an Italian crank on a JIS spindle, planning a bank robbery, and keeping kidnapping victims duct-taped in his basement.

The Broken Pie Plate

In addition being yellowed and filthy with drivetrain grime, the aforementioned pie plates also usually have a big chip in them. They look like Pac Man if he were a coal miner. It’s pathetic already. Get it off.

The Fixed-Gear Pie Plate

This beast is apocryphal, but I maintain that it exists...somewhere. And as much as the idea of one horrifies and sickens me, I really want to see one, if only so that I can kill it. I thought I saw one once, but it was in fact the next-worst thing: a singlespeed pie plate. Even that was hard to stomach--it was a little like seeing your aunt naked or something. Frankly, I don’t know for sure how I’d react to an actual FGPP. But I’m willing to take the risk for our nation’s sake.

So please, check your bike for pie plates and remove them. If you have a friend with a pie plate problem, tell him or her as well. Perhaps one day they will be gone forever. Sure, there’s probably some pie plate factory in China and an entire village that depends on it, but we must think of ourselves first. And if you’re wondering what to do with all the pie plates, I say let’s build a henge. Stonehenge brings a millions of tourists to England, and Carhenge brings thousands to Alliance, Nebraska. People love henges. So let the world’s henge enthusiasts come and marvel at Pie Plate Henge on Long Island. We can put it in Commack.

Worst of NYC Craigslist Bike Ads ***SPECIAL EDITION***

Alas, I am an idiot. In my haste I neglected to note this is quite clearly a freewheel, not a fixed gear. Thanks to the anonymous commenter who pointed this out. I was simply delirious thinking I had found what another commenter called "The Unholy Grail of Fixedgeardom..."

Sorry, I know I just posted a CL entry, but I just found something I've been seeking for years. I've always suspected there must be at least one out there, and today I found it. It might just be the worst faux-pas possible on a bicycle. Yes, it's a pie plate on a fixed gear! (Of course, the ultimate would be to find one on an all-NJS vanity street machine, but until today I didn't even think they existed, so who am I to be greedy?)

(I'm literally crying tears of joy--look at it, it's glorious!)

54cm Road Bike-Single Speed Conversion F/S - $300 (Upper East Side) (original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/bik/360605835.html)
Reply to: [deleted] Date: 2007-06-26, 10:50AM EDT

I am selling my single speed freewheel conversion. This is my most reliable bike but I must part with it now. The frame is a 54cm free Spirit butted steel frame from the '80's back when they really knew how to make the good stuff. The frame could use a paint job- it has a lot of nicks and scratches that are all cosmetic and definately much less than one might expect from a frame thats been around almost 30 yrs. The fork is also original. The other components have all been up'd and replaced.

"Free Spirit" and "the good stuff," in the same sentence. Another glorious first! And please, if you do buy this, don't paint it. If I see another resprayed or powdercoated beater on fixedgeargallery I will lose it. Save the cost and/or labor involved with repainting for restoring classic steel. Better yet, dismantle this frame with a Sawzall and use it to replace your plumbing.

Bullhorn aluminum(?) road bars new w/bar tape and top load brake lever, also new. the brake(new) is set up for the back but can be moved to the front as per your preference. Old style (french?) stem makes for a comfortable riding position. The steer tube is 1' threaded. The crankset vintage in great condition, pedals are fully functional but very used. Chain is new. Vittesse deep 'V' wheelset-used many miles but true, clean and durable w/road tires that have never gone flat, slow leaked or given me any problems whatsoever. These wheels are good for the next three or four summers before you will need to even consider changing. Also a stylish alloy seatpost, new and nice comfort anatomic relief saddle, new.

One brake. On the back. Nice. Not sure how easy it will be to move to the front. There's the small matter of bolt length. But finding a matching piece of stamped tin for the front shouldn't be too expensive.

The gearing is a bit unusual: the front chainring is 52t and the back cog is 24t. This allows for much better climbing while sacrificing only slightly on downhill resistance. For track and straight road riding this ratio is very balanced. Of course all this can be changed out. The back wheel can take a fixed gear on the flip as well (it is not set up flip flop right now but allows it)

It is a bit unusual. That cog's almost as big as the pie plate.

This bike has been my commuter for many months and would serve as a great messenger bike or simply a city bike. All the parts are great but its not overly showy and wont get ripped off. Serious buyers only!! Leave contact # w/your email. I will answer any questions/more pics if need. I can deliver. Price is negotiable but dont lowball me because I won't respond.

Lowball you on a Free Spirit? Wouldn't dream of it.