This Just In: This Blog Has Been Tweaked Slightly For Better Performance On Gravel!

Firstly, please note in your Palm Pilots that I will not be posting on Tuesday, May 13th, but that I will return on Wednesday, May 14th with regular updates:

Before you start complaining, I'm officially giving the day off work tomorrow as well, so if anything you should all be thanking me.

You're welcome.*

*Oh, also, here's a column Bicycling just posted, so if you don't read it until Tuesday it's like I'm not even gone!

Secondly, are you as fascinated by me as I am by myself?  No?  Then you won't want to read this smugness profile of me on Transportation Alternatives's propaganda website:

(That's not really the picture they used, I'm just being hilariously irreverent.)

Actually, it's worth checking out even if you don't find me fascinating, since I'm the very first person in New York City, if not the entire United States, ever to put a child on a bicycle.  That makes my insights into the subject hugely important.

Speaking of putting the childrens on the bicycles, shortly after the photos in the above interview were taken I removed the child seat from the Big Dummy and replaced it with a laterally stiff yet vertically compliant "kiddie kockpit:"

And yes, of course it's crabon, because I don't fuck around:

We're both enjoying the new hop-on-and-go setup, which feels quite liberating after that big Dark Helment-esque hunk of plastic:

Seriously, tell me that resemblance isn't uncanny:

See that?  It's totally without can.

While we're on the subject of bicycle modification, let's talk about tire customization:

As you no doubt recall, last week we learned how to make a "Big Cunt:"

Now, a Tweeterer has succesfully used the same process to make a "Cunt King:"

@bikesnobnyc your blog inspired me! Not to go riding but to engage in tire based profanity. Is this the new tube pad? pic.twitter.com/YJC4QoFcB7
— Si D (@Devon_Walks) May 12, 2014

Inspiring indeed.  That's what I'm here for!  You're welcome.  Again.

It just goes to show that, as I always say, you can make a mountain out of a molehill, and then you can make that mountain into a cunt.

Meanwhile, in Dublin, the police found a bomb just hours before the day's Giro d'Italia stage finish there:

It is unclear whether the race was the intended target.  Nevertheless, Giro organizers graciously offered local authorities the services of their "special investigator:"


Their offer was declined.

I was also surprised to learn that there's still a Tour of California, and Mark Cavendish has won he first stage by a "tire's width:"

A few minutes passed, and then Cavendish broke into a big grin and the hugs began — the photo finish showed he’d edged the charging Degenkolb by a tire’s width. Moreno Hofland (Belkin) rounded out the podium in third.

“To be fair, I won Milano-Sanremo by 10 centimeters before,” Cavendish said. “I’ve lost a sprint in the Giro d’Italia by three centimeters. Both of those, I knew the outcome. This is the first time in my career I really had no idea. I had to wait a little bit until they confirmed.”

Alas, Cavendish doesn't specify the exact distance in this case, so we have no idea what kind of tire they actually mean.  Are we talking a typical road racing tire, or are we in mountain bike territory?  Seems to me that's an important distinction, and I'd like to think if it's the latter that VeloNews would report that he won by a "Big Cunt."

BSNYC Friday Fun Quiz!

Well, the Giro d'Italia starts today in Belfast, and I don't know how the people feel, but the sheep are pink with excitement:

(In certain parts of the world this is considered "NSFW.")

Expect three weeks of thrills, chills, and over-sentimentalizing the death of Marco Pantani.

(Rapha celebrates a cyclist who pushed the very limits of his hematocrit and then exploded his heart with cocaine.)

Meanwhile, here in America it's Bike Month, which means cyclists are now worth 50 points to drivers instead of the usual 25--and if the cyclist wasn't wearing a helment you also get six bucks off your next oil change at Jiffy Lube!

Just make sure you get your activation code from the "investigating officer" (that's a good one) at the scene of the "accident."

It's also Bike To Work Day in some cities, which means your co-worker will most likely show up at the office with a giant sweat stain on his back after having sixteen near-death experiences and swear to never, ever do that again.

More importantly, it's been something like twenty years since I've proctored a quiz, so I'm administering one herewith.  As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer.  If you're right that's great, and if you're wrong you'll see bicycling safety.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and if you're racing in the Giro d'Italia watch out for pink sheep.


--Wildcat Rock Machine

1) Fill in the blank:

The effects of human-induced climate change are being felt in every corner of the United States, scientists reported Tuesday, with water growing scarcer in dry regions, torrential rains increasing in wet regions, heat waves becoming more common and more severe, wildfires growing worse, and forests dying under assault from __________________.

--"infrared radiation."
--"carbon particulates."
--"heat-loving insects."
--"intergalactic space Freds."

(One of the world's most recognizable skylines.)

2) The taxpayers of Columbus, Ohio are being bled dry by three (3) underused bike racks.

--True
--False

3) What is Hal Ruzal pointing out?

--The sagacity of locking your frame and both wheels
--The sartorial elegance of riding a bicycle that matches your shoes
--The third set of bottle bosses that qualify this as a "gravel bike"
--He's demonstrating how easy it is to steal a bicycle by picking the lock with his fingernail

4) What is this rider doing?

--Signaling a turn
--Being alerted to an SUV in his blind spot
--Earning $20/hr as a mobile WiFi hot spot
--Farting

5) What is the US dollar value of a single Fred?

--$1.13
--$10.13
--$10,000.13
--(LIBOR/100) x (retail cost of bicycle) √ (π) x (6.02214129(27)×1023 mol−1) + (PEMDAS-3)

6) According to a recent review, the above mountain bike tire excels in wet, sloppy conditions thanks to its large volume and ample side knobs, though it tends to queef air under hard cornering when run tubeless.

--True

--False

I had spikes on my helmet and a Doctors Without Borders jersey.

You were wearing grey shorts and your rider number started with 654 (Charity Blue!).

We followed each other for a bit.

I sang to you briefly. 

You said something about the music I was playing (Arcade Fire).

You pulled off to the side at the bridge peak, and we waved to each other as I passed you...

And then you appeared in front of me as I passed you again, like some crazy magic trick.

I looked for you at the finish line, but, you know, needle in a haystack.

7) Dork-O-Rama!  Gotta be the:

--Five Boro Bike Tour

--Gran Fondo New York

--New York City Century

--The daily dance of seduction that is any given Cat 6 race

***Special "Metal Detection Is The New Strava"-Themed Bonus Video***

It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Smell Pine)

So not sure if you heard, but apparently there's this thing called "climate change," and the upshot is we're all going to either fry or drown, depending on where we live:

The effects of human-induced climate change are being felt in every corner of the United States, scientists reported Tuesday, with water growing scarcer in dry regions, torrential rains increasing in wet regions, heat waves becoming more common and more severe, wildfires growing worse, and forests dying under assault from heat-loving insects.

Yep, heat-loving insects.  Here's what they'll look like:

If you're smart, you're making plans, and as a graduate of a state university who broke a thousand on his SATs (but only after taking an intensive prep course) you can bet I'm dealing with this problem head-on.  (Always wear your helment when dealing with problems head-on.)  Here's how:

First, I've moved my family to higher ground and onto the mainland so that I can watch and laugh from the parapet as the other four boroughs are swallowed up by the sea.

Second, climate change means extreme weather such as massive blizzards in winter, baronial rainstorms in spring, scorching heat in summer, and flesh-eating locusts in autumn.  For this reason, I now seize every single fair-weather opportunity to fuck off for a bike ride, because there aren't going to be too many left.

In other words, if I check my phone and see this, I drop whatever it is I'm doing and grab the nearest bike:

Unless what I'm doing is eating a sandwich, in which case first I finish eating the sandwich, and then I take a nap if the sandwich made me sleepy.

Third, I'm raising my seventeen (17) children to flourish in a post-apocalyptic wasteland ravaged by heat-loving insects in which antibiotics are useless and toxic floodwaters lap at our ankles, forcing us ever inland until we're all huddled for survival atop the Continental Divide like those US Airways passengers who landed in the Hudson.

Unfortunately, I haven't quite figured out how to raise them for survival, especially given the increasing disparity between rich and poor.  Basically, I'm torn.  Part of me thinks I need to groom them to make billions of dollars and join the ruling elite, and part of me thinks I need to train them to hunt and kill and scavenge and use weapons and be resourceful so that they thrive as rebel soldiers in the inevitable class war.

Then I realize I have no idea how to make billions of dollars or be resourceful on an elemental level, so instead I just placate them with juice boxes and Netflix.

In the meantime, I try to console myself with the fact that people who are smarter, got higher SAT scores, and went to better colleges than me are hard at work averting the destruction of the Earth and building a better future, and indeed the key to our survival can be summed up in two words:

ROBOT CARS!!!

Sure, car-dependence is highly impractical, uses a shitload of resources, and contributes to the totally ass-tarded city planning you find in 99% of the United States, but maybe if the computers are driving the cars it will all work out, right?  Yeah, that's the ticket!  All we really need to sort out now is who they run over in the EXTREMELY UNLIKELY event that anything goes wrong:

The problem is starkly highlighted by the next scenario, also discussed by Noah Goodall, a research scientist at the Virginia Center for Transportation Innovation and Research. Again, imagine that an autonomous car is facing an imminent crash. It could select one of two targets to swerve into: either a motorcyclist who is wearing a helmet, or a motorcyclist who is not. What’s the right way to program the car?

Hey, awesome, it's "Sophie's Choice" on wheels!

Here's an idea: instead of having the car decide whether to run over the kid on the tricycle or the woman pushing a stroller, why not just make the car fucking implode?  That way, the only victim is the driver.  It's time we brought a little nautical honor to the roadways here in Canada's udder.  The captain should always be ready to go down with the ship, even if that ship is a Prius running on the Android operating system and the voyage is a run to the Whole Foods in Gowanus--which should be swept out to sea any day now.

Of course, there are people who are working on alternatives to the robot car, like this bunch of brainiacs who have invented a recumbent sperm mobile:

Amazing.  I've always yearned for the sensation of being buried alive while traveling to the store to buy absolutely nothing because of the complete lack of cargo space.  Not sure how useful this contraption is for, well, anything really, but I'd sure love to see some good YouTube video of the typical Walmart customer trying to squeeze into one.

If only there were some sort of machine that was relatively inexpensive, required no fossil fuels, carried cargo, posed virtually no threat to other road users, and could travel for miles at a time under human power:

(Smug as a bug in a rug.)

Alas, a perpetual motion machine like that is the stuff of myth.

Speaking of cargo bikes, here's a thousand bakfietsen full of smugness for you:

I do love my Big Dummy, but my favorite was the Fred porn:

Full Scattante kit, a Primal jersey, and a GoPro manssiere?  Wow.  That's almost TMFFOR!  (Too Much Fred For One Ride.)

Lastly, in yesterday's post I included the following photo of the Son of Scattante:

Which prompted a reader to ask me a number of questions, including this one:

5) Are you aware that your carrying-a-bike-on-a-train-craft is lousy?

Then, he included the following photo, ostensibly an example of how to do it properly:

Now that's TMBDFOT!  (Too Much Bike Dork For One Train.)  About the only thing missing is a GoPro manssiere.  (Though I suspect the guy on the right simply hasn't slipped his on yet.)

Speaking of trains, some sort of tandem conveyance with space for hundreds of passengers running on a dedicated roadway between the suburbs and the city center could make for a safer and more efficient alternative to the robot car.

Yeah, right, it'll never happen.

Wednesday.

Indulge me, if you would, in briefly pondering a hypertheoretical situation:

Okay, so there's a group of kids walking along the sidewalk--young ones, with ages in the single digits.  They're with an adult, let's say a teacher, and suddenly a passer-by starts screaming at the teacher like a character out of a Mel Gibson movie:

"KILL THEM!  KILL THEM ALL RIGHT NOW!  KILL THE LITTLE BABIES!!!"

Would you say that at this point it would be reasonable for an officer of the law to fire a tranquilizer dart into the passer-by's ass and drag him to a mental institution?  Because I would.  Yet strangely pretty much this same thing happens every day and nobody seems to give a shit.

Indulge me, if you would, in briefly pondering the following actual situation I witnessed yesterday.

It was a lovely, springy day and I was approaching an intersection with a four-way stop near a school.  In the crosswalk ahead of me were a bunch of little kids, crossing the streets with some adults.  A driver was inside the intersection, waiting them to finish crossing so he could complete his turn.  Behind him, a second driver was waiting also, except "waiting" is not the right work, because he's LEANING ON HIS GODDAMN FUCKING HORN THE ENTIRE TIME!!!

This is a perfectly normal sight in New York City, but as I was watching it yesterday all I could think was "This guy is a fucking psychotic!"  The most charitable explanation for his behavior is that he wants the little kids to hurry the fuck up, which is only moderately psychotic, and the most disturbing (and likely) one is that he simply wants the driver in front of him to plow through the kids on the crosswalk, which is fully psychotic.  Either way, people like this need to have fucking darts fired into them, then they need to be placed in padded rooms for psychological evaluation, and the results of that evaluation notwithstanding they need to have their fucking licenses revoked for all of eternity.

Really, the only difference between my hypoallergenic scenario and the real scenario is that the nutjob is in a car, and of course when you're in a car you're allowed to be as crazy if you want.  This is America, and the rule is that if you buy (or lease) something you get to be as batshit insane as you want while you're inside of it.  It's sort of a commercial force field.  The passer-by is recognized for the lunatic that he is, but the driver just has a little innocent "road rage," and when it finally gets the better of him and somebody dies all he has to do is say he mistook the pedal for the brake and he'll live to drive another day.

Anyway, my ride yesterday took me through pretty much the entire length of Manhattan, and all I could think the whole time was, "You have to be a fucking idiot not to realize that drivers are deranged."  Do pedestrians wander into traffic while staring at their smartphones?  Sure.  Do cyclists on brakeless fixies salmon through red lights at busy intersections?  Of course, brakes and stopping are for "woosies."  But only a driver will watch a light turn red in the busiest city in America and then stomp on the gas and launch a three-ton vehicle through it as hundreds of people have already begun to cross the street.

All I'm saying is, give me a bike, a tranquilizer gun, and a straight jacket and I'll have the streets safe in no time.  "Vision Zero" sounds cute and all, but people are dying for fuck's sake, so how about a new motto?

Then on the way home that night I was overcome by motorcycle salmon on whiny crotch rockets who decided they didn't want to ride around the block in order to visit the gas station.  I almost said something, too, but fortunately I remembered that they were probably off-duty police officers who would be all too happy for an excuse to beat me with their helments and instead adopted a dignified countenance as I slowly wet my pants.

Meanwhile, in Columbus (that's in Ohio, right?), a local news channel right out of the movie "Anchorman" reports bicycle infrastructure is BLEEDING THE CITY AND THE TAXPAYERS DRY!!!


Or, as far as I can tell, the city put in some bike racks, then a bunch of NIMBYs stopped the bike lane that was supposed to go with them, so now nobody's using them:

Evidently, at a cost of over $500, or one pair of Assos bib shorts, these three racks are now bringing Columbus to its knees.

Wow.  Journalistically speaking, this news report is basically the equivalent of honking at the driver in front of you to drive through a bunch of babies.

Then again, I know nothing of the bicycle infrastructure in Columbus, so maybe the whole thing is a poorly-conceived shit show, what do I know?  If you have any insight, please share it in the comments, but make sure to pepper those insights with the word "scranus."

The big revelation to me though was that in Columbus people apparently lock their bikes to garbage cans:

"I'll lock 'em up to a garbage can, or a tree, or a fence..."

That doesn't sound like a great idea, and if Hal "Jorts" Ruzal of Bicycle Habitat were to come across something like that in his latest bike-locking video he would have totally plotzed:


Hal Grades Your Bike Locking 2014 (Part IV) from STREETFILMS on Vimeo.

Basically, if you don't want Hal to strangle you with his dreadlocks, you need lock your frame, your wheels, and your saddle:

I like to think my own locking technique would pass muster with this revered mechanic who bears an uncanny resemblance to Tom Hanks about 75 minutes into "Castaway," and my own saddle-securing trick is a piece of old bicycle chain wrapped in inner tube:

Though you should also keep a novelty turd in your bag at all times:

That way, if you don't have a chain (or you want to enhance your existing security security) you can simply place the novelty turd on top of your saddle as a theft-deterrent.

For maximum effect, I also like to plant a little toothpick flag in it warning would-be saddle thieves that I carry a fecal-borne disease:

Though this has been known to backfire, like that time when I returned to find my saddle gone and my flag modified:

I'll never eat in that Dunkin' Donuts again, I can assure you.

Plus, I've got to watch my figure just in case I decide to come back from retirement, which is why I've also been studying up on racing technique.  In fact, I was just reading Chris Horner's instructions on how to shed a wheelsucker:

If attacking or yelling doesn’t work, try this: As you drop to the rear of the paceline, Mr. Deadwood will likely open up a little gap in front of him and allow you the privilege of slipping in front of him, thus preventing him from ever rotating to the front (Figure 6.2). When you get in front of him, slow down. A lot. Allow a huge gap to open in front of you. Let it grow as large as you can. Wait for Mr. Deadwood to jump around you to close the gap. If he wants to stay with the breakaway, he’ll eventually decide to go around you. When he goes past you, jump on his wheel and let him tow you back up to the group. This is a complex tactic that requires a unified effort by everyone in the breakaway to help out. If you’re the only one who’s concerned about the freeloader,
this tactic will not work.

All riders in the breakaway must do the same thing to Mr. Deadwood every time they rotate to the back. That is, take him off the back and make him chase to regain contact. This requires him to work very hard to stay in the break, or die trying. Not literally, of course. We don’t want anyone to die in pursuit of a pair of socks and a TGI Fridays gift card.

Of course, to fully enjoy Chris Horner's book you really need to be up on pro racing lingo.  For example, "Mr. Deadwood" is peloton slang for "guy who's been cooperating with USADA."

For the rest of us, the best way to shed a wheelsucker remains a well-timed burst of flatulence.

Let's Get Baronial!

In yesterday's post, I expressed bewilderment over the word "calliper:"

Subsequently, a reader pointed out that this is the British variant of the word "caliper."  That makes sense, since the inventors of that dumbass bike appear to be Canadian, and for some reason Canada prefers to import its spellings from across the Atlantic instead of simply sharing them with their slovenly roommate to the south:

I can't say I really blame them for not sharing with us, because if we let them use the word "caliper" then it wouldn't be long before we started demanding free health care in return, and before you know it Canada's got to put sticky labels on everything in the fridge because the USA never pays for its own groceries.

Nevertheless, I am relatively sure that there's no such thing as "caned soda:"

Incidentally, in addition to a refreshing "caned soda," the food cart upon which this sign was posted also sold me the World's Least Epic Burrito, which turned out to contain only lettuce and trace amounts of what I really hope was some kind of cheese.

I kept eating, hoping all the good stuff was somehow concentrated in the middle of the burrito, but by the time I got to the end I had to come to terms with the fact that I'd basically just eaten a salad wrap.

We do lots of things good here in New York, but burritoes ain't one of them.*

*[All grammer and spealing 100% domesticaly soarced in the USA.]

Speaking of street commerce and getting taken, I was riding through Central Park yesterday, my stomach cramping from half a pound of wet lettuce, and for the first time I noticed that the pedicabs charge $3 per minute:

This means that, at a leisurely clip, a single trip around the park would cost a tourist something like $90.

I may have to undercut them and start riding people around Central Park on my Big Dummy for a mere $2.50 a minute while pointing out all the key landmarks, like the "Ghostbusters" building and where John Lennon got shot by the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.  Maybe I can even work out a deal with that burrito vendor wherein my customers get a voucher for a free "caned soda" with their "burrito."  Not only will this be extremely lucrative, but schlepping rubes around the park all day long will get me in the best shape of my life and prepare me for Total Strava Domination.

Speaking of speed, don't you hate how smug people look when they've got a tailwind?

They've always got this pleased look plastered on their faces, and the worst part about it is that most of them don't even realize they have a tailwind--they just think they're awesome.  I know this because I do the same thing all the time.  There I am spinning effortlessly along the greenway at 34mph with my hands resting comfortably on the bar tops, marveling at my own speed and thinking somehow I've managed to parlay weeks of drinking and half-assed mountain bike exploits into race-winning form.

Then as I'm grimacing into that headwind on the way home it all makes sense, and that parade of beatific expressions mocks me the entire way.

In fact, sometimes I get so angry I break two laws at once:

Here in America, our infrastructure is in such sorry shape that riding a 20lb bicycle over a massive bridge while taking a photograph can cause it to collapse:

Pedaling across the span, my finger trembled as I pressed the "shutter button" on my smartphone, yet when I opened my eyes again I was amazed to find that the bridge still stood and I had not yet met my end:

Of course, while riding a bike over this bridge is forbidden for some reason, it's perfectly fine to drive over the bike and pedestrian path on the 59th Street Bridge--especially if you have a special license plate and a Mercedes:



Hey, after a hard day of being a judge or whatever it is that license plate means, you shouldn't have to sit in car traffic on the bridge to unwind at Scandals:

Oh, also, did you know Scandals is hiring?  I saw it on their website.  In fact, I just applied using this photo:

To paraphrase a certain governor, "Time for some naked recumbent problems in Queens Plaza."

Lastly, here's an email I received about young people saving the world or whatever:

The World's Smallest Café a reality!


Hi! 
Two weeks ago it was just a crazy idea. An open source, ecological way to take on the fast food giants. 
Today we've sold our bicycle cafés to 8 countries, are fully funded on IndieGoGo and orders keep pouring in. (Read here)

It is unbelivable! The start of a revolution, and we are deeply humble. 
THANK YOU!!

Uh, you're welcome...?

Anyway, here's the video:


I have no doubt that tiny human-powered coffee carts are going to save humanity from extinction, yet three (3) things make me uncomfortable:

1) The way the narrator says "coffee."  [CAH-fee.]
2) I'm pretty sure at one point he said ther "cah-fee" is "served without fuzz," from which I can only conclude I've been drinking coffee with fuzz.
2) The fact that this is developed by the "Nordic Society for Invention and Discovery," which sounds like a euphemism for something blond and insidious.

Then again, a combination coffee cart/pedicab would probably net me a small fortune in Central Park, and at $3,000 it's cheaper than the average crabon Fred chariot.

May have to add one to the fleet.

Riding Connected: Smart phones, dumb bicycles.

First of all, just so you know:

By the way, I flipped the sign over and it continued thusly:

Or, if you prefer, please feel free to wait for us to finish paving in our lushly-appointed pop-up lounge:

I chose the latter, so feel free to drop by and say hello at any point during the next two weeks.  Put your feet up and stay awhile.  We can order a pizza!

Meanwhile, if people don't stop trying to "simplify" the goddamn bicycle I give it a few more years before people abandon them altogether, because if I were a novice cyclist and all that was available to me was crap like this I'd make the logical choice and say, "Fuck it, I'm leasing a Hyundai."


"Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of a bike ride," the video begins:

Yet for some reason they seem to have decided "Screw that," and instead come up with this complicated and impractical"connected" bike that starts at $1,049 and is made out of plastic:

So how do you ride a connected bike, and how does it simplify cycling?

Well, first you "portage" it from the drive side and ruin your shirt:

(Guess they're trying to push that crabon belt drive "stretch goal.")

Then, you take your smartphone out of your khakis:

And proceed to open the "Ride Planner:"

Because you need all the help you can get in order to ride your plastic bicycle in beautiful weather for about eight (8) blocks:

Once you're rolling, little lights on your minimal crabon handlebar tell you which way to turn, because you're an idiot:

Also, the bicycle has "blind spot detection," which looks suspiciously like a "rider flatulence alert:"

"Blind spot detection" is crucial on a connected bike, because if you're dumb enough to need directions from your handlebars to undertake a 10 minute trip, you're also the sort of Pavlovian putz who will initiate a turn the very instant the green light starts blinking--at which point your cockpit will start to vibrate in warning:

Ironically, the bicycle industry has spent years trying to convince us that we need crabon components in order to eliminate vibration, and now these geniuses are telling us the exact opposite.

Who do I believe???

Even more ironically, while this connected bike will plan your ride, give you directions, alert others to your flatulence, and vibrate when you're about to turn into an SUV and die, it does not appear to have any brakes:

Though admittedly they are listed in the specs:

(What's a "calliper?")

I guess the guy in the video just likes to go "brakelless," because he's such an awesome rider.

Anyway, incredibly this doofus makes it to work, at which point he analyses his eight-block ride on his laptop, smartphone, and smart watch--you know, because he's all about the simplicity:

Sometimes it's hard to fish your smartphone out of your khakis while you're sitting, and a smart watch saves you the trouble of having to stand up for half a second.

By the way, I'm no aesthete, but if I'm spending over a thousand dollars on a bicycle I'd at least like something a little cleaner than this "throwing a hot dog down a hallway" fork/headtube junction:

("Hello-o-o-o-o?  Echo-o-o-o-o!!!")

Still, that's a small sacrifice in order to ride a bicycle that will use the power of social networking to alert "the community" of potholes, blocked lanes, and other road hazards:

If I'm riding with someone I will obviously go out of my way to point out a pothole, but as far as buying a bunch of expensive crap just to improve a bunch of strangers' riding experience, I'm firmly in the "Fuck that, you're on your own" camp.

Ooh, look, he farted again!

Just kidding--that's the theft-detection system, because it goes without saying that it's only a matter of time before Pavlovian putz's expensive city bike gets stolen, at which point it's the "community's" job to help him find it.

Yes, when it comes to cycling, it takes a village to remain, on an individual level, a bunch of clueless dorks.

Then the video goes on to explain how "carefully considered" the bicycle is:

If by "carefully considered" you mean "fitted by a sales floor team member at Target."

But the very best part of owning a connected bike is coming home at the end of a long day, sitting in your wanking chair, and "foffing off" over your stats:

Wow, almost nine kilometers!

"Totally killed it, bro:"

So to recap, this "simple" city bike is equipped with all of the following "essential" features:

Though if you want, like, a rack or some fenders, well tough shit.

One thing's for certain though, which is that there's no shortage of people who are dying to ride bicycles yet are too stupid to actually do it, because they've raked in a shitload of money so far:

Personally, I'm waiting for a pennyfarthing option.