Leave this section blank--for employer use only.

[Wizened old man sidles up next to me at the bar and starts talking before I'm able to leave.]

I'm going to tell you what's wrong with the new generation.

[Grabs my bicep with his bony hand, which despite looking and feeling like a bird claw is surprisingly strong.]

In my day, you could trust bike racers because they cheated with integrity.  They hopped a train mid-stage.  They snorted some strychnine.  They kicked up their feet and watched French sitcoms while enjoying a refreshing blood transfusion in the hotel during the rest day.

Not these new kids!  No sir or ma'am!  (I can't sex you young people no more what with your long hair and your nipple rings.)  Take this Froome character for instance.  He's as doped as the next guy, but just because he's "sick" it's "legal:"

Froome fell ill during the race and the Sky team doctor Allen Farrell put in the TUE application to allow Froome to take 40mg of the oral corticosteroid, per day. French newspaper La Journal du Dimanche reported that the UCI medical adviser Dr Michele Zorzoli had fast-tracked the TUE application at the Tour de Romandie.

By this time I was able to extricate myself from the Ancient Mariner's claw by jabbing at it repeatedly with one of those tiny plastic cocktail swords, at which point the bartender chased him out of the establishment by hitting him with a broom.  Still, the old coot had a point.  Why should you be allowed to take a banned substance just because you weren't feeling well that day?  Shouldn't you have to either lose or stop racing?  What's the real difference between taking corticosteroid because you got sick during a race and getting a blood transfusion during the third week of the Tour because your body won't recover?  Seems to me they shouldn't allow any of it, or else they need to allow all of it.

Also, I'm amazed Chris Froome can race a bike at all at this point, much less win major stage races.  The guy's got a blood parasite, he needs corticosteroids mid-race, and his asthma's so bad he needs to suck on an inhaler while he's riding:

At this rate they're going to give him a TUE for a Gruber Assist.

By the way, I was researching ("researching" is pretentious for "G--gling") Froome's blood parasite, and I learned that it can cause something often mistaken for "male menstruation:"

In some tropical peoples that work in wet places such as rice fields, most boys pick up Schistosoma, and start the bleeding, about puberty when they start working in the rice fields, and uneducated locals think that it is normal and refer to it as the male equivalent of female menstruation, and call it by their native language word for "menstruation".

It's worth noting that it's impossible follow pro cycling without having a deep knowledge of subjects such as hematocrit levels, the difference between autologous and homologous blood transfusions, chimeras, corticosteroids, Clenbuterol-tainted meat, and now male menstruation.  To me, this is exactly what's wrong with the sport.  Somehow, the rest of the world manages to sit back and watch a bunch of people kick a ball around, yet I wind up reading about children bleeding from their penises.

Moving on (you're welcome), here is a video to which I was alerted by a reader that explores the complex interplay between childlike fascination and total cluelessness:



The video is a profile of this couple.  They love each other, which is nice, and so they do stuff together, which is also nice:

(Nice.)

What kind of stuff do they do together?  Well, stuff no other couple in the history of humankind has ever done together, such as eating food:

And riding bikes:

They also have what they call a unique living situation, by which I mean it's not:

"Our work situation and living situation is pretty unique.  We live on one side of a duplex, and then the other side of a duplex is our office."

How is this even remotely unique?  If they lived on a submarine and worked in a decommissioned nuclear silo then that might be unique, but this sounds like the typical live/work scenario that is the basis of a million Craigslist apartment ads.

And the way they go about their work is as unique as the situation in which they do that work:

"Whenever I'm working I'm starting one project and then it takes me to another project, and I'm constantly like back-and-forth and back-and-forth."

Right, because that's what working is.  This is like saying, "Whenever I'm taking one mouthful, I'm chewing it and swallowing, and then I'm taking another mouthful."

You might imagine someone with such a unique approach to working has a similar approach to not working, and you'd be right:

"When I'm on my bike, it's like I get a focus on like, 'What do my legs feel like right now, how hard am I breathing right now.'  I get a focus on my...self for the first time?"

So, like, you mean you're pedaling a bike and you're having fun?  Yeah, us too, welcome to bikes.

It really is fascinating to watch someone discover the concept of "recreation" as they're describing it to you.

But there's more to riding bikes than having fun and not working while moving your legs.  There's also weather:

"Having the sun hit your skin, like, being outdoors.  The sensory experience involved in that?  That's something that like our human ancestors experienced for 200,000 years and, like, a lot of times we're disconnected from that?"

It's true, we are somewhat disconnected from the sun when we're inside, I'll give him that.  However, I'd also imagine that our human ancestors were similarly disconnected from the sunlight 200,000 years ago on those occasions when they retreated into their caves to hide from sabertooth tigers.

Sun isn't the only thing that amazes him, either.  He's also amazed by the wind:

"When else do you think about the wind?"

An excellent question.  When do you think about the wind?  Well, let's see: getting dressed in the morning, walking, running, carrying an umbrella, wearing a floppy hat, wearing a skirt, wearing a necktie, sailing, swimming, flying a kite, reading a newspaper on a park bench, setting up a beach blanket...  Yeah, pretty much all the time, really.  In fact, wind is probably third only to precipitation and temperature as far as the atmospheric conditions that dictate your day.  You wake up and you look out the window.  What are you wondering?  Three things: 1) Is it raining?  2) Is it cold?  3) Is it windy?  Then, you get dressed accordingly, and you go to work--you know, the place where you go back-and-forth among numerous projects.

Next, they discover the concept of exhaustion:

"And then there's always a threshold.  So, at what given point...are my legs at, and so, like, am I close to that threshold?"

It was at this point I realized that I was watching a documentary about two synthetic humans who have just emerged from a pod that aliens recently planted on the Earth, and whose mission is to live among us as they gather data about our planet.

But then the narrative takes a strange turn, as the Male Humanoid tells the story of his first century:

"When we get to mile 90?  I mean, when we realized that we're actually 30 miles away from home?  That was the darkest place I've ever been."

Wow.  That was the darkest place you've ever been, really?  The time you got really hungry on a bike ride and you needed a snack?

This confirmed my suspicion about the pod.

So what happened on that ill-fated century:

"I kept yawning?"

Yeah, us too.

Then he took a nap in a cornfield:

After which he woke up completely rested and restored:

From this, I conclude that before the aliens launched them from the mother ship in the pod and they simply programmed him to think that the voyage to Earth was a century ride.  So it makes sense that the "century" would be the formative experience in his very short life.  It also makes sense that they crashed in a cornfield, at which point they emerged from the pod and began gathering data for the imminent alien invasion:

It's all so clear to me now.  They're the anti-Adam and anti-Eve and they're sowing the seeds of humanity's destruction--not that we're exactly living in an Eden as it is:

To the wasted bike girl peeing on my street - m4w (crown heights)

You:

A crooked helmet

A crashed bicycle in the middle of the sidewalk with the wheel still spinning.

Apple headphones.

Bleach blonde greasy hair (possible chunks of a regurgitated cheap dinner clinging to it)

Ass hanging out peeing against a VW..possibly #2? ill find out in the morning on my way to work! :D

Drooling and could barely stand up straight struggling with your belt, zipper, etc.

Me:

Annunciating my words like telling Gary Busi a bed time story after a batch of pot brownies. (Couldn't tell if the headphones were a disguise to pester off human interaction).

I offered to call you and pay for a cab. You rudely refused (and burped up a little something).

I came back a minute later trying to do the right thing and asked if you were sure and strongly urged you to walk your bike and NOT ride your bike home.(which...im sure...you fucking rode home like an idiot).

You:

Told me 'to just chill out' and rudely waved your hand in my face.

REALLY?! really.....??? "Just Chill Out..."? I thought coming home sober on a warm sunday evening with my my family 6 feet away from my apartment is as chilled out as a person can possibly be. 

I hope you veered off into East New York and are now drugged up in a cargo crate, on a ship, bobbing across the Atlantic over to Uzbekistan for a lifetime of miserable prostitution, infectious needles and poor nutrition. 

Happy AIDs! 

DONT FUCKING PEE NEAR MY HOUSE AGAIN. YOU'RE DISGUSTING. PLEASE GO BACK TO IOWA.

At least she was wearing a helment.

BSNYC Friday Fun Quiz!

If someone from outside of the United States were to ask me how Americans feel about people who ride bicycles, first I would show them this:



Then I would show them this:


Along with the following comment:

groundhog2008

This cyclist did not appear to try to stop, or even slow down.  And, it looked like there was room to make a safe pass.  This doesnt make sense to me, unless he was looking for a reason to blame a motorist for something.  I just looked it up, and it is true that maintenance vehicles legally drive on this bridge, and there are NO signs forbidding other vehicles from doing so, either.   I get tired of these obviously queer guys wearing those tight girly pants and causing traffic mayhem wherever they go!  It doesnt matter to them, whether they are on the road, sidewalk, walking trails, or whatever, they ALWAYS feel like they have the right of way, whining about something that didnt go their way!!  A lot of them are rich, and dont work, so this is what they do.  If some of these people get run over once in a while, that is what they should expect when they knowingly take the risks of being out on the highways, totally unprotected by anything but those cheap styrofoam helmets!!!!

I wonder if "groundhog2008" experiences physical pain from being so stupid.  You'd think there'd be some sort of dull throbbing in the cranial region.  Also, he says most cyclists are rich homosexuals who don't work as though that's a bad thing.  We should be so lucky!  It sounds like a very pleasant lifestyle, and instead of reading stupid bike blogs at our crappy jobs all day we'd be riding back and forth from our Chelsea townhouses to our summer places on Fire Island.

Of course, if this same person would ask me if I enjoyed riding bicycles, I'd answer thusly:


I'd probably answer more emphatically if I had a better wheelset, and I've currently got my eyes on the new Zipps, which are a bargain at only $3,600:

The upgrades from the 404 Firecrest carbon clincher to the 404 Firestrike don’t come cheap. The 404 Firecrest currently costs $2,725 and it will remain in the line. The new 404 Firestrike wheelset will be available as a higher end option for $3,600. The Firestrike is just 20 grams lighter than the Firecrest 404, and uses largely the same shape; clearly the new wheels will appeal only to a very specific rider, one who often rides in the rain and, most importantly, is willing to shell out serious cash for marginal gains.

Sure, $3,600 sounds like a perfectly reasonable price for a pair of dedicated rain wheels, which is why I plan to put them on my dedicated rain bike, where the improved aerodynamics will cancel out the resistance caused by my rusty chain:

I suppose I could also just use the $3,600 to buy another bicycle, but a pair of absurdly-priced wheels that will be obsolete as soon as road bikes move over to "hydrolic dick breaks" seems like a much better investment.

And now, I'm pleased to present you with a quiz.  As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer.  If you're right that's fantastic, and if you're wrong you'll see the Bicycle Blues.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and ride safely.



--Wildcat Rock Machine

1) What is this?

--A L'Eroica-legal cleat with float
--What Freds do when they're happy
--A rider struggling vainly to extricate himself from his toe clips
--A revolutionary new pedaling technique whereby you reduce your pedal stroke to a single degree and "ratchet" your way forward

(Vélib' bikes come stock with the baguette.)

2) Vélib' in Paris is preparing to launch:

--A bike share program for children
--A three-week long bike share stage race to coincide with the Tour de France
--A bike share program for dogs
--A doping control program

3) What was "Let Levi Ride?"

--A fake grassroots campaign launched by Trek in 2008 to protest Astana's Tour de France ban
--A real grassroots campaign launched by bike messengers to protest USA Cycling's ban on "jorts" in road racing
--A "tramp stamp" tattoo worn by Odessa Gunn
--The first track on mandolin virtuoso Letle Viride's seminal 1973 self-titled debut album

4) What is this rider doing?

--Salmoning
--Shoaling
--Circling
--Sharting

(Via a reader.  Thank you, reader!)

5) According to the seller, this recumbent comes with:

--A parking brake
--A safety flag
--An emasculation
--All of the above

6) You should always wear a helment when handling bamboo.

--True
--False

(DJ Midlife Crisis on the Wheels of Steel)

7) Fixed-gear streetwear is now evidently the domain of middle-aged men.

--True

--False

***Special "ALLIGATOR UP!!!"-Themed Bonus Video***

A lengthy discourse on the intricacies of maritime law.

Yesterday afternoon I slipped out for a ride on a rugged all-terrain bicycle.

It's a well-known law of physics that any bicycle photo posted on the Internet will attract negative commentary.  I know this because I started a blog based on doing just that.  Now, I'm going to complain about it, because another well-known law of physics is that bloggers are hypocrites.

For road bikes, negative bike commentary usually consists of inane yet odorless little Fred farts like "the bar tape should match the saddle" or "slam that stem!"  (This sort of irritating mental flatulence is caused by consuming websites live "Velominati.")  In the heady days of the fixie craze, dozens of people who had been riding bikes for less than three months would argue over whether a track bike's chain tension was correct.  I'm not sure what the go-to recumbent complaint is, but I'm sure it happens with them too, and I'd imagine comments are along the lines of "that bike's too upright" and "the rider's head should be level with his scranus."

But when it comes to useless critiques, it's mountain bikes that attract the true dingbats.

"Those bars are too narrow."  "The brake levers are angled wrong."  "Needs suspension."  "Those tires suck."*  And so forth.

*[Seriously, you haven't figured out all these tires are the same yet?  Idiots.]

It seems especially futile to quibble over the finer points of a mountain bike given the endless variety of terrain in this world.  Even within a single region one area might call for a completely different set of equipment than another, and that's not even accounting for the seasons or for each rider's individual preference and riding style.  This is why mountain bike critiques are the lowest form of Internet bike dork wankerdom.  It's like this guy:

Calling out this woman for not wearing a parka:

(That surfboard carrier sucks, riding in flip flops is stupid, where's your helment, and so forth.)

Not that this stops the average Mountain Fred (or "Barney" as some call them), who will then move on from your locally-appropriate bike to critiquing your native environment and insulting you because "you don't have any real mountains where you live," as though you somehow singlehandedly "wussified" millions of years of geologic evolution, or that your average person who does not race bikes for a living should pick up and move in pursuit of Internet bragging rights.

I was thinking about this yesterday as I rode this bike, because as I headed off into the woods I noticed there was indeed something egregiously wrong with it:

I'm sure Mountain Freds have found fault with nearly every single component of this bicycle, including those not visible to the naked eye, but tellingly nobody noticed the only actual problem, with is that I had this thing on upside-down:

(Not my bike or my thumb.)

I must have done so the last time I switched the fork, and of course the upshot was that the caliper was angled all wrong and the pads were only grabbing like half the braking surface of the rotor.  Oddly though, I've been riding it like this for months and noticed no adverse effects.  The bike stopped fine--in fact, much more than fine.  Moreover, when I stopped and re-installed it correctly I didn't notice much of an improvement.

My conclusion from all of this is two-fold: 1) I'm an idiot; 2) Internet Mountain Freds are even bigger idiots, because while they're worrying about my brake lever angle my fucking brake caliper is on wrong.

Or, to put it more elegantly, my idiocy is proof that people are idiots.

As for the Mountain Freds, their conclusions will be: 1) You didn't notice an improvement because your brakes suck in the first place, you need the Hydro RTX Vulvulator SLs running DOT 666 fluid cut with baby oil; 2) You didn't notice because you ride "woosie" trails that I could ride with my road bike; 3) You should move to British Columbia/The Rockies/The West Coast/The High Desert/The Swiss Alps/the Antarctic etc. where if you install your brake wrong you will die.

In any case, even though my brake was now correct the rest of the universe seemed somehow out of whack.  Everything seemed to go slightly wrong for me after that, including when this enchanted tree grabbed me by the backpack and stopped me cold as I made my way through the little Hobbit habitat:

On the plus side, after the tree relinquished me I emerged from the Hobbit habitat with special powers, for on the way home I saw someone who was driving like an asshole.  "What an asshole!," I thought.  Then, a short while later, we both stopped at a red light and I noticed that the word "asshole" was keyed into the side of the car.

I was unable to obtain a photo because the light turned green a moment later, but I swear on the Lord Jesus Christ's "pants yabbies" that all of this is true.

Therefore, it's obvious to me that I now have the power to manifest my thoughts in physical form, and that I scrawled the world "asshole" on this douchebag's Nissan Rogue with my mind.

So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

In other news, here's something for all you Retro-Freds out there:


If you're wondering why this guy doesn't just switch to clipless pedals, it's because these conform to L'Eroica ride rules, which is like NJS for the wool jersey set:

Article 6 - Criteria for admission
Only cyclists with "L’Eroica" bicycles will be permitted to participate.

"L’Eroica" bicycles are bicycles which have all the following characteristics:
road racing bikes, built before 1987 (not cycle-cross or time trial bikes);
steel frame (the only aluminium frame bikes permitted are ALAN or VITUS with either screwed or glued joints);
gear shift levers on the down tube of the frame (exceptionally, only pre-1980 bar-end gear shifts are allowed);
pedals with toe clips and fitted straps (quick release pedals are not allowed, except Cinelli M71 pedals);
passage of brake cables outside the handlebars (the passage of cables inside the frame is acceptable);
wheels must have at least 32 spokes with a low profile (less than 20 mm).

If I were a L'Eroica commissaire or whoever enforces the rules for the ride, I'd look askance at a workaround like this, though I'm way into the hypnotic animated GIF on the website:

The wagging Retro-Fred heel is making you sleepy...very sleepy...  Now, when you hear the rattly sound of a vintage derailleur moving a chain across a five-speed freewheel, you'll wake up and think you're Italian cycling great and noted centerfold model Fausto Coppi:

("Phénomène" is French for "wang.")

Speaking of France, while New Yorkers continue to debate the future of Citi Bike, Vélib' in Paris is busy launching a bike share program for kids:

Why should adults have all the fun on bike share?

Paris is launching bike share for kids, P'tit Vélib', in parks and designated areas throughout the city. A range of kids' bikes, from balance bikes to smaller step-through styles that resemble their larger counterparts with front baskets and full chainguards, will be available for children ages 2-8.

It makes me sad that something like this would never happen in America, where Gatorade is considered a juice, parents make their kids wear helments to play video games, and children gestate in minivans and eat McDonald's until they're 20, at which point they emerge with the protective layer of fat they need to survive in a country where people drive on the freaking pedestrian and bike paths:

(via All Hail The Black Market)

Apparently, the person in the car was driving to his (or her, the article doesn't specify) job as a "bridge tender:"

"VDOT has modified procedures for access to the bridge, which restrict bridge tenders from utilizing vehicles for shift changes. Bridge tenders must now walk or utilize a motorized cart. When a vehicle is required, it will be accompanied by a walking spotter to identify any potential safety issues."

Motorized cart?!?  Here's a crazy idea: if you work on a bike path, maybe try riding a fucking bike to work!  Also, I'm glad to see they're conducting a thorough investigation:

The Virginia Department of Transportation confirmed Monday the driver of the car in Saturday’s accident is a bridge tender. VDOT says the contract employee has been placed on administrative leave while the agency investigates the accident.

Wow, the investigation has only just begun and already they know it was an accident.  Something tells me that by the time they're finished they'll come to the conclusion that cyclists and pedestrians should be banned from the bridge and it should only be open to cars.  

That's how we do it here in Canada's FUPA.

The Indignity of Commuting by Bicycle: Knowing When To Fold 'Em

I'm totally out of it.

[This is the part where you all go, "How out of it are you?"]

I'm so out of it that I'm now finding out about things from Bicycling magazine.  For example, I'd never seen this video until they linked to it:



I know this sort of thing makes the typical Fred pitch a boner tent in his chamois, but I just wanted to shove their dainty little Rice Krispies treats right down their throats--which really isn't that mean, since that's what they're doing with them anyway.

Moreover, not only did I learn about this video from Bicycling, but I learned about it from them in the context of a parody:



So basically Bicycling is covering parodies of videos I didn't even know existed.  This makes me even more out of it than Lift Propulsive Pedaling guy.

In other professional cycle doping news, the commenter who operates under the nom de plume "CommieCanuk" recently sent me an email concerning this:

I take issue with the Leipheimer quote in the headline.  He's clearly confused.  The truth is that nobody wanted to hear from Leipheimer before all this doping stuff, when he was the most boring rider ever to throw a leg over a bicycle.  Remember the whole "Let Levi Ride" thing?

Of course you don't remember, because nobody cared.  "Let Levi Ride" was a fake grassroots campaign hatched by the Great Trek Bicycle Making Company back in 2008, after Astana (Leipheimer's team at the time) was banned from the Tour de France.  As you can imagine, people responded to the idea of Levi Leipheimer not being allowed to compete in the Tour the same way they would if you told them they could never drink Ovaltine again, which is to say they shrugged and then said, "Okay, whatever, I didn't even realize it was still around."

Now, though, Leipheimer actually has interesting things to say.  He's got beans to spill, skeletons to let out of the closet, and other metaphors.  He's also got 22 pets:

We have 22 pets at home, that are all rescues, horses, goats, llamas, pigs, sheep, and they are pretty much our children.

Here's a typical morning at the Leipheimer/Gunn household:



Now tell me that's not interesting.

Also, here's one of his cats trying to claw his balls off:

That photo is totally staged.  I bet the pocket of Levi's Levi's is stuffed full of Tender Vittles.

Speaking of wildlife, remember how I saw a snake?

(I saw a snake.)

Well, I just got an email from commenter Leroy informing me that he saw it too:

And yes, obviously it's the same one because everybody knows there's only one snake in the entire New York City metropolitan area.  This is why the snake is so busy--though not too busy to take a break for some voyeurism:

It's true, snakes are incorrigible peeping toms.  I read it on the Internet.

Fortunately, I didn't see any snakes on my commute to Brooklyn yesterday--nor did I ride a Citi Bike like I did last week, because to be honest the fleet is looking a little bedraggled:

Still, just because I chose not to ride a Citi Bike doesn't mean I didn't want to look like a total goofball.  (Or use a fuckload of double-negatives.)  Also, trains have air conditioning.  So instead I rode a folding bike:

(Pie plate being menaced by a valve stem that looks like a wang.)

I've ridden a lot of different bicycles in the city over the years: fixies, road bikes, cargo bikes, Scattantes...  You know what's most different about each them?  It's not the geometry, or the drivetrain, or even the clothes you wear while riding them.  No, it's how people react to you in crosswalks.  For example, if you're riding a fixed gear bicycle, pedestrians will often hesitate as you approach, even if you're stopping for the light.  This is because fixies are idiotic contraptions that cannot coast, and coasting puts people at ease, whereas not coasting makes them think you're going to keep going and run them over.  Road bikes elicit a similar reaction, because you ride them hunched over the bars and dressed like a human suppository that will not stop until it finds a gigantic anus in which to burrow.  Could it be theirs?  Pedestrians are not about to cross your path in order to find out.

Folding bikes, on the other hand, intimidate nobody.  Pedestrians laugh.  Little children laugh and pelt you with Girl Scout Cookies.  And every other cyclist, no matter what they're riding, shoals the fuck out of you.  I was egregiously shoaled yesterday by a woman on a Citi Bike fully loaded with shopping bags from Banana Republic, and she did so repeatedly and violently.  I suspect that if folding bikes were the only bicycles on earth then the "bike backlash" as we know it would not exist.  Even Dorothy Rabinowitz and Delia Ephron, both of whom think the bicycle is the most deadly object since the Scud missile, wouldn't give you a second look as they jaywalked in front of you to catch a cab from Bergdorf.

Speaking of stopping at lights, our current police commissioner is a well-known crackdown whore, and so I wasn't taking any chances with running lights, especially when cops were present.  Other cyclists are not so prudent.  Consider this scenario:

Firstly, notice how the officers park right on the corner so they can block two crosswalks at once.  Secondly, notice that there are four (4) cyclists, including myself, and each one of us reacts to the presence of the police car in our own way:

The guy in the far background simply ran the light, the guy across the street got of his Citi Bike and walked it, the rider in front of me stared unwaveringly at the police car's bumper, and I stopped before the crosswalk like a good little sycophant and then wrote a whiny blog about it later.

I probably shouldn't have worried though, since Bratton's biggest concern seems to be the graffiti that taunts him as he drives home from the Hamptons:

He announced with satisfaction the arrest last week of a Long Island man accused of routinely spray painting on highway overpasses and walls in Queens. (Graffiti along the Long Island Expressway has come under particular scrutiny from Mr. Bratton, who gets a close view of the vandalism as he returns from his weekend home in the Hamptons.)

I'm glad to see he's got his priorities straight:

Mr. Bratton has also grown quieter about Mr. de Blasio’s signature public safety initiative — reducing traffic deaths.

Basically, it's totally fine to get mowed down by a car, but you should never have to look at unsightly graffiti while driving one.

Something else I noticed is that cyclocross is the hot new trend in Cat 6 racing:

Above is the little shortcut people take at the Manhattan Bridge approach on the Brooklyn side in order to excise this gentle yet time-consuming sweeping curve:

This shortcut has become increasingly worn in since I left Brooklyn a year an a half ago, and I can only attribute it to the increased popularity and importance of Cat 6 racing.  After all, saving three or four seconds could be the difference between crushing or getting crushed by that formidable rival on the mail order single speed with the exposed ass crack.  In fact, as I passed the dirt path, an intense three-rider move was ascending it, but I only managed to catch the last rider as he transitioned to the pavement because I had to unlock my phone:

I should also note that an unusually high percentage of riders seemed to be on Citi Bikes, possibly because they'd also decided to augment their commutes with air conditioned train rides.  Here's a typical garden variety Citi Salmon in the new "protected" bike lane on Lafayette Street:

Note the look of defiance common to all salmon, but also infused with obvious contempt for my folder:

Seconds later, I was double-shoaled by a brace of Citi Bikes:

I tried to intimidate them by folding and unfolding my diminutive bicycle, but to no avail.

A short while later, I managed to capture a textbook example of classic fixie rider red light crosswalk-circling behavior, and I will let the photos speak for themselves:

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

Putz.  Either run the light or put your foot down, don't ride around and around in my field of vision like some toothless shark with a beard.  "Yes, I see you.  You read Urban Velo, I get it.  Congratulations, and welcome to bikes," I wanted to tell him as I stuck the 40-foot long seatpost of my folder through his spokes.

In all honesty though I was a bit crankier than usual.  See, about 15 minutes prior to this I had popped a Benadryl, owing to what I suspected might be the onset of an attack of hives.  Fortunately, the hives did not manifest themselves, but unfortunately I was beginning to feel quite drowsy and extremely irritable, which is what happens when you take an over-the-counter drug with sedative properties in 90-degree heat.  That's why there's a warning on the package to "be careful when driving a motor vehicle or operating machinery," which is incredibly stupid advice, because when shouldn't you be careful when driving a motor vehicle or operating machinery?

All of this is to say that maybe I was more irritated than I needed to be, because while I was seething Mister Purple Shorts was perfectly content to suck on a cold beverage and not give a shit:

Finally, the light turned green, whereupon I encountered a family of salmon:

(Salmoning brings families together.)

To be honest, I'll take salmoning over red light fixed-gear crosswalk-circling any day, and at this point they should probably just make all the bike lanes two-way and be done with it.  And if you don't believe bike lanes are traffic-calming, just look how much safer the streets are for overloaded shopping cards:

You've heard of "everything but the kitchen sink."  Well, this is everything including the kitchen sink:

Also, if it wasn't for bike lanes, how would pedestrians get around construction sites?

Sure, they usually create a little temporary sidewalk, but you always feel like a brick is going to fall on your head if you use it.  Therefore, even in my Benadryl-addled state I didn't really mind the pedestrians.  I was, however, furious that this guy was wearing the exact same outfit as me!

"I look way hotter, bitch," I hissed as I rolled by.

What can I say?  It was the Benadryl talking.

Then I weaved around Captain Cargo Shorts:

And back into the bike lane proper:

Where the little buffer area serves as the de facto salmoning lane.

Meanwhile, the bike lanes themselves are simply Cool Beverage Refreshment Lanes:

Maybe the DOT should make it official.  Just modify the stick figure bike guy, put up a few signs that say "Refreshment Only!" and you're done!

In case you couldn't tell, he's carrying a tray full of daiquiris, though I realize it also looks like he's about to hurl a bunch of dynamite.  Hey, what do you want from me?  I don't even have Photoshop!   If you want this site to look professional just send me $100,000 and I'll get right on it.

Ingrates.

Speaking of grates, the city stealthily incorporates them into the bike lanes so that Benadryl-addled bike bloggers riding inherently unstable clown bikes one-handed while taking photos are more likely to fall down:

See how they do their best to camouflage them?

Still, I managed to stay erect:

That's "erect" as in I didn't fall off the bike, not as in some embarrassing side-effect of the Benadryl.

And no sooner had I negotiated the grates then this walked right out from in between a pair of parked vans and did his best to do what the grates could not:

I'm happy to say he failed:

And thus I lived to fold and kvetch another day.