If you're not from New York (or if you're like me and you generally ignore the news), you may not know that a bill is in the works that would ban drivers from texting on their cellphones, handheld organizers, electronic Twinkies, or whatever else people are using to send and receive text messages, within the New York City limits. Frankly, I had just assumed texting while driving was already illegal in New York, just like talking on a cellphone while driving is. I mean, why would one be legal and not the other? Moreover, texting is way more distracting than just talking. I don't think you should be allowed to do anything with your cellphone while you're driving, but you can at least still look at the road while you're talking. Allowing texting but not talking while driving is like saying it's OK to carry a gun and to shoot people with it, but you can't use the gun to bludgeon anybody.

Law or no law, driving while using a cellphone is still a major problem here in New York, and a high percentage of the drivers who cut me off, back into me, stop abruptly in front of me, or slowly merge into me like they're trying to perform reverse cellular mitosis are also doing something with a cellphone. (Usually, that involves cradling them lovingly in the folds of their neck fat.) Which is why I was pleased to encounter this gentleman:

You'd just expect a fellow with slicked-back hair driving a vintage Mercedes convertible on a summer day in downtown Manhattan to be talking on a cellphone, but he wasn't. And I say, "Good for him!" In fact, I'm thinking about doing a series of PSAs in which I try to convince drivers they can still flaunt their vehicles and themselves without using cellphones while they do it, and if I do I'm using this guy for the first ad. The copy could say something like:
"Bret Easton Ellis called. He wants his main character back. But this guy didn't answer. Why? Because he knows convertibles and hair gel are cool, but talking and texting while driving isn't. So be cool. Don't drive distracted."

Plus, when you've got a cellphone stuck to the side of your head all the time, you tend to miss some of the riches the streets of New York (or in this case, of Brooklyn) have to offer. Like this:


Yup, a genuine "Hino," for the low, low price of $110. I would have called the owner myself, but I was behind the wheel of my Hummer and I didn't want to break the law by using my cellphone--especially while driving on the sidewalk, where you need to pay extra-close attention.
You also miss gems like this:



Fixedgeargallery and Velospace are fine, but fixed-gears are also naturally occurring and sometimes the best ones are out there in the wild. To see one this nice though you have to come to Brooklyn. (There's no way the owner of this bike ever takes it into Manhattan, because that chain wouldn't last a second there. You might as well just tie the bike to a tree with a pair of pantyhose.) I'm particularly "feeling" the padding on both the top tube and the stem, the thermal sippy cup, and the cosmetic wrapping around the seat cluster. Note also the front wheel is unlocked despite ample chain slack, in keeping with the current style.

This is the sort of thing that corporations like The Great Trek Bicycle Making Company try to appropriate, reproduce, and sell, but simply can't. Take this bike, for example, which was forwarded to me by a reader:



challenge:design the ultimate urban assault bike
welcome to the district.the fast own the streets and they live [obscured by downward-tilted saddle]don't get caught and don't die.
hang on if you can.or get back to the 'burbs.
I'm glad to see Trek have picked some of the goofier elements of urban fixed-gear bicycles, divorced them from their ostensible purposes, and welded them together into this...thing. Looking at this, I feel like Kramer's fake boss at Brant Leland: "I don't know what this is supposed to be." Is it for going fast in a straight line? Some sort of drag bike, maybe? Do people who live in cities want bikes with long wheelbases that aren't designed to turn quickly? Is the 650c for mad bar spinzzz? Will it clear the downtube? Or is it just to be aero? What's the point of the rear brake only? What's the point of any of it?!? And why is a company from Wisconsin implying that anybody who's understandably too afraid to ride this contraption needs to "get back to the 'burbs?" Do they even have cities in Wisconsin from which to retreat?

Maybe someone at Trek saw this thing on Fixedgeargallery and wanted to emulate it:


We've seen gorilla bikes again and again; however, in this case I don't think that's what's riding this bike. Instead, I think it's somebody who's slowly training his body so that one day he may engage in the ancient and elusive practice of autofellatio. If this bike was photographed in front of a yoga studio then that will clinch it for me. By the time those bars reach the front axle I wouldn't expect to see this guy leaving his house much anymore.
Autofellatio may take determination, but so does making your first project bike come together:

...since the frame is 62cm it requires a very long steer tube and the one the fork came with wasn't long enough so with some help from my uncle I had a solid piece of aluminum turned down on the lathe to the exact diameter as the 1 1/8 steer tube on both the inside and outside out the pipe, then it was welded throughly around the seem and now it's very solid and an inch and a half longer. Since the frame is intended for an integrated headset and the fork I had wasn't integrated I had to machine down the standard 1 1/8 threadless headset down just enough to drop it in the frame only the upper cup need work, them I filled the gap where the internal bearings should have been with some tight fitting o rings and buttoned it all together.

Firstly, I'm pretty sure if Leader make a 62cm bike they'll also sell you a fork to go with it. Secondly, I'm also pretty sure a fork couldn't care less whether it's used with a standard or an integrated headset, provided it's got the right race on it. In any case, this baby's had more front-end butchery than Jennifer Grey. I'd be even more afraid to ride it than that Trek thing. I guess I need to get back to the 'burbs.

But how can I? There are just so many great things to see here. Especially in Brooklyn, which has become so trendy that people on Bedford Ave. are now--quite literally--wearing trash bags:


It's Mugatu's Derelicte!

Years ago, as I swept the sidewalk in front of a local store on a sweltering summer day (not pro bono, mind you--I actually worked in the store), I gazed up at the hazy sky and contemplated my lot. Just then, a co-worker about four times my age stepped outside to have a cigarette and joined me. He leaned against a parking meter or something, regarded me meaningfully, wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "these are the dog days."

Indeed they were, and indeed they are. I still hear his voice on days like today, when it's hot, it's been hot for awhile, and people seem to have only two modes--moving slowly, and fighting with each-other. I certainly heard it yesterday during my commute. It actually compelled me to stop on a Chinatown sidewalk, cool down, observe the street scenes I usually just ride past, and once again contemplate my lot. Unfortunately, though, my contemplations were drowned out by the sounds of a nearby homeless man engaging in his morning expectorations, so I just got back on my bike and started riding again lest I be forced to witness his blackened lung actually emerging from his mouth like a balloon covered in seaweed.

Still, though, these are definitely the dog days. It's been a long season. Even the pros are feeling it:

After grimacing across the finish line having vomited in his mouth from the effort, American Dave Zabriskie said he thought the course was not ideal for time trial specialists.

That's right, Dave Zabriskie threw up in his mouth a little bit--the same way everyone else did when he released a chamois cream named after his own crotchal region. Cadel, too is feeling it:

"With everything that's gone on in the last three months - I had tendonitis, a huge crash in the Tour de France, defending the yellow (jersey) with only one leg and breaking my anterior cruciate ligament - I was on crutches for three or four days after the Tour," he said.

Indeed, the dog days of summer have driven Cadel Evans, the John Coltrane of excuses, to finally take his excuse-making into the "sheets of sound" phase. It's one thing to blame injuries, but to flat out claim you only had one leg in the Tour de France (yes, I know he's being metaphorical, but I prefer to read it literally) is a statement bold and surreal enough to qualify as art. As time goes on, I hope Cadel adds to his exquisitely-wrought excuse canon. Perhaps he can also say he didn't have a bike, and that he was blind. Maybe he could also tell a tale of how a Succubus came to him in the night and stole his spirit, and how he was forced to waste an entire rest day journeying to the Carpathian mountains in order to retreive it.

But really, who can blame Cadel? Riding your bike every day can become drudgery if you don't take steps to keep it interesting. I myself just put new tires on the ironic Orange Julius bike in order to put that proverbial spring back into my step. Actually, they weren't "new" tires, they were just different old tires. (An essential part of the IOJB's irony is that it does not ever receive new parts.) They were also knobbies, which I had consigned to the recesses of my parts bin as they had become excessively worn. However, I recently had a revelation, which is that a worn knobby is simply a new slick, so I excitedly re-shod the IOJB with them. And I'm glad I did, because not only do I feel like I'm riding a new bike, but there's also still enough residual knobbiness left for them to make that meditative Om-like humming sound on the pavement, thus reinvigorating my sun-baked soul.

In fact, I was feeling so vigorous that I took an entirely different route through Brooklyn to get to Manhattan. Sure, it was still incredibly irritating, but it was irritating in a totally different way. I even took the dreaded Williamsburg Bridge (mostly because I was afraid of encountering the guy on the Manhattan Bridge with the dog brake again). And while I didn't encounter anybody employing hairy mammals as brakes (their own legs excluded), I did encounter the world's most misaligned frame:

It may not look like much in this admittedly blurry and poor picture, but I can assure you that in person this frame was so tweaked it was disorienting. (I've added a little red bracket to emphasise the planar disparity between the front and rear wheels.) Lest you think it's simply the angle of the photograph, rest assured I examined the bike from every angle, and I promise you there's not an axis of symmetry to be discerned from any one of them. Looking at this bike was like looking over the edge of a really tall building, or at this. I don't know what happened to this bicycle, but I really hope this guy wasn't on it when it did.

In order to reorient myself, I had to look at a more run-of-the-mill bicycle:

As I've pointed out before, the popularity of Brooks saddles and their high price relative to the cost of the inexpensive bicycles they're usually affixed to has resulted in a new phenomenon: locking your saddle instead of your front wheel. I'm not sure why you wouldn't just lock the saddle as well both wheels, but perhaps the owner is looking for an excuse to purchase an Aerospoke. Then maybe he can try to set some kind of speed record.

By now I had regained my bearings. I was also back in familiar territory--the bike lane, with a salmon coming right at me:

The only thing more alarming than the approach of a bike salmon who seems more interested in contemplating his 27-inch front tire than the person heading at him with the right of way is the revelation that the bike salmon has also committed the hideous stylistic faux-pas of using what appear to be flop-and-chop handlebars with suicide brake levers:

Yeah, I was really pleased that this guy had a choice of four levers not to pull when he didn't see me. Actually, I'm hoping Cadel sees this. Maybe he can claim he was using the same handlebars, and they cost him the Tour.

Yesterday, I mentioned that I was on the hunt for unironic bicycles. Consequently, a few readers were kind enough to forward me photos of their own sincere rides. These bikes were indeed a breath of fresh air, and you can believe me when I say that my thanks is as sincere as their steel, practical, and functional bikes were boring. Ironically, however, on the very day that I announced my search, I came across three of the most ironic bicycles I've ever had the misfortune of encountering.

The first I saw in person yesterday morning on the Manhattan Bridge as I headed into its eponym. As I ascended the span, I passed by a rider going the other direction on what appeared to be a brakeless freewheel Brooklyn Machine Works Gangsta Track and accompanied by a large dog on a leash. Naturally, this was the one day I didn't have my camera on me. (I hadn't felt like lugging the tripod that morning, and the rider probably wouldn't have held still for the 15 or 20 minutes it would have taken me to make a proper daguerrotype anyway.) As if to taunt me, fate saw to it that I was passed by the same rider with the same dog again that very evening. (At least this time I was able to inspect the bike more closely to confirm that it was indeed freewheeled and as brakeless as I was cameraless.) Of course, it only dawned on me later that the dog probably serves as the brake--a revelation that almost knocked me right off my bike. Only Cesar Millan himself could actually use a dog to modulate his speed, and while I don't think the rider was him I can't swear that it wasn't, either. In any case, I'm sure you'd agree that a bike with a dog for a brake is extremely--almost sickeningly--ironic.

Later, I received an email from a reader about an article in the New York Post (home of Andrea Peyser, ironically).

(image by commiecanuk)

In the article, the Post presents its six bike picks, one of which is mind-bendingly ironic:

I think I speak for all of us when I say that I'm sick and tired of these messengers and Williamsburg hipsters on their ironic track bikes with bar-end shifters, cantis, triple cranks, long-cage derailleurs, and 36-spoke wheels.

But without a doubt, the bike that takes the ironic cake (which is of course a big pan of lime green Jell-O) is this one, forwarded to me by an intrepid reader:

You've heard of the TTMBL. You've even heard of the SPMBL. However, it's highly unlikely you've ever encountered the FLMBL (Fork Leg-Mounted Brake Lever). I'm not sure what reason one could possibly have for setting up a bike in such a fashion--besides, of course, the pursuit of pure, unadulterated irony. I suppose it could be that the rider gets so aero that he or she actually grasps the fork legs, and as such likes to have a brake close at hand. Or, judging from the Oury on the downtube (how did that even get on there?!?), this rider could be doing some extremely complicated tricks that involve having one hand on the downtube and the other on the fork. (In the few years that fixed-gear freestyling has taken off, it hasn't really progressed beyond wheelies, barspins, and chainring grinds, but this could be a sign that things are finally changing just in time for it to go out of style.) Personally, I'm contemplating exploring the possible aero benefits by mounting integrated shifters on the fork legs of my road bike. I'm also hoping to one day meet the inventor of the FLMBL, just so I can shake his or her bloodied, spoke-butchered hand.

But let's say you've got an ironic bike--like a Guiseppe Saronni Colnago road frame that's been converted to a brakeless fixed-gear. Where do you put it when you're finished vigorously displaying its irony around the neighborhood at 7mph?

Well, if you're the sort of person who likes limited-edition sneakers and also rides your high-performance race bike in said sneakers, you mount it on a $275 bike rack designed by someone who feels that "the aesthetic of something is more important to me than how well it works."

Because remember: you spent a lot of money on your bike because of the way it looks, not because of the way it works. Why would you hang it on something cheap and functional?

As the summer wears on, so does the war between cyclists and, well, everybody else--at least in the press. And the latest skirmish appears to be taking place on the bike path in downtown Manhattan, where according to the Downtown Express (whatever that is) cyclists are disregarding signs telling them to dismount their bicycles:

Let's be honest--barring the presence of stairs, no cyclist is going to dismount his or her bike in any outdoor space (especially if he or she is wearing road shoes). Yet as a cyclist, it pains me to read this. Not because my fellow cyclists are disregarding the rules, but because every cyclist should know the proper technique for riding your bicycle where you are legally supposed to walk it, and that is to remain on the bicycle with your feet on the pedals but to squat down on the top tube and roll through slowly without pedaling. Like a dog perking its ears up and wagging its tail, this communicates to pedestrians and law inforcement a message of submission, and while you may not technically be walking the bike you're not riding it either, and that's usually good enough for them. On the other hand, riding through with your hands in the drops and your ass in the air is a clear sign of aggression, and is akin to flattening your ears on your head, barring your teeth, and salivating. And running next to the bike and jumping on and off of it like some kind of confused cyclocross racer (as in the excerpt above) will just make you look stupid.

So while cyclists may be in the news for all the wrong reasons lately, it's important to remember what Oscar Wilde once said, which is that "The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about." I'm not sure what that means, but I'm guessing it's somehow relevant. But one thing I do know though is the only thing better than being talked about is being talked about by the Opinionated Cyclist:


A reader made me aware of OC a few months ago and I became a fan almost immediately. In fact, I was so enamored of him that I emailed him repeatedly with interview requests like a desperate suitor. Unfortunately, though, no reply was forthcoming, and I eventually resigned myself to a life without OC. That is, until a reader notified me that I had become the subject of a number of his videos.
It seems OC had been put off by what he saw as disrespectful treatment of him on this blog, particularly my portrayal of him in his green face paint, and he has requested in one of his videos that I not post any pictures of him in a "derogatory manner." He's also added a dialogue bubble to his video for emphasis, as you can see above. (I'm hoping that he does not interpret my posting the very picture of him admonishing me as "derogatory.")
Although that video is interrupted by what appears to be a phone call from his mother, in the second video he goes into some detail about how he felt when I contacted him, and in the third he continues to discuss me while simultaneously and deftly incorporating a plug for airfree tires. Perhaps most intriguing (to me anyway) is the proposal he makes to me in the most recent video, in which he suggests we fill in for each-other when we take vacations, and also alludes to his expertise in the area of the "whores in the Philippines."

I would gladly entertain such a proposition (whores excluded), though I'm reluctant to give him my Blogger username and password as he suggests. I'm also reluctant (though oddly tempted) to don the famous OC green face paint and make Youtube videos, which is another one of his ideas. However, I have emailed him as he requested, and I'm hoping that we can find a way to work around these minor impasses and somehow collaborate. Because while such a collaboration would undoubtedly be quite lucrative as he points out, it's you, the reader, who has the most to gain in the currency of entertainment, and as always I will continue to put you before myself.
The truth is, I have a weakness for quixotic quests, and unlocking the riddle of Opinionated Cyclist is one of them. Another one of them is the complete eradication of all pie plates, except for those on fixed-gears. And yet another new one I've recently undertaken is to discover a completely unironic bicycle.
As you may have noticed, the world is now filled with ironic bikes. It's the rare bicycle that doesn't have at least one slightly ironic element, whether it be a tongue-in-cheek sticker, or a retro component on a carbon frame, or an intentionally juvenile bell or something. Even I myself ride an ironic Orange Julius bike (which as I revealed last week does have fenders--a necessity when riding through goose leavings).
But as any resident of Brooklyn, or San Francisco, or Portland can tell you, being surrounded by irony can get quite tiring after awhile. Sure, it can be entertaining at first, but after awhile it becomes really annoying. It's like how when you first get to England you're amused by the fact that the cars are on the wrong side of the road, but after about three or four days you're sick of "looking left" and wish they would just drive the normal way.
So I've been searching for a competely unironic bike. And by "searching" I mean that I've been looking at bikes people are emailing me, as well as at internet galleries. Of course, as you can imagine, this isn't exactly the best way to find a sincere bicycle. For example:

This bicycle, forwarded to me by a reader, is about as ironic as it gets. Modifying a Bianchi so that the downtube reads "Biach" and then placing it in front of a shrine to the Virgin Mary (at least that's who I think it is--remember, I'm an Ultra-Orthodox Jew apparently) is ironic enough to make even the hairs of the most stalwart fixster's ironic moustache stand on end. No sale.


This bicycle was found and photographed in Goa, India by another reader. While also ironic, I feel as though I'm getting closer here, if only because the irony is not intentional. I'm sure whoever labeled the bike did mean to sincerely imply that the bicycle was formidable. Of course, irony abounds here nonetheless, especially because while the bicycle is in fact deadly that's mostly because it's a serious tetanus risk.


This bicycle, forwarded to me by yet another reader, arrived in my inbox only this morning. While bizarre, clearly it is the work of someone who is almost painfully sincere. As wacky a contraption as it is, the rear rack, fenders, and internally-geared hub scream practicality, and the hammock seat is probably supposed to be perineum-friendly. The guy who built this bike probably wears wool socks with sandals, is somehow affiliated with a university, and likely builds lots of other stuff too--he might even have a breakfast machine like Pee Wee Herman. But still, he probably revels in the bike's ugliness, and that's a form of irony, so I'm not going to allow it.

Finally, I checked in over at Fixedgeargallery, where I found this:


First, Aerospokes were just crappy wheels a few people thought were cool. Then, they were hip. Then, people started spelling it "Arrospok" and they became ironic. Now, like any number of ironic accessories and like the fixed-gear craze itself, they've broken on through to the other side and are, once again, just crappy, except now a lot of people think they're cool instead of just a few. Like this guy, which is why he has two of them.



Likewise, showing off both your bike and your torso in a gym is ridiculous, but it's not ironic. Gyms may be full of iron, but they are irony-free zones, and the people who patronize them are generally irony-free as well. For this to be ironic, he would have to know how ridiculous he looks, and I don't think he does.


I guess maybe the fact that he calls himself "Fatty" but isn't might be ironic, but I'd argue instead that it's vain. He wants you to notice he's not a fatty and that he works out. He may or may not also want you to notice that he bears an eerie resemblance to B-Real from Cypress Hill:


However, for me he evoked something more profound that I could only express in this Nigel "The Torch" from "Top Secret!"/Pete Steele from his Carnivore days/Ogre from "Revenge of the Nerds" triptych:



Somehow it just seems to capture the spirit of island-inspired jewelry and testosterone.

There's certainly irony in this shot of the owner in motion:



And that irony lies in the fact that it evokes that same look of surprise, fear, and kinetic urgency you see in the famous Sasquatch photo:



Of course, this irony was probably not intentional, so it should reflect on neither the owner nor the bike. So, having concluded to my own satisfaction that the owner is not an ironic person, and thus is incapable of having built an ironic bicycle, I'm going to declare this bicycle completely irony-free.
Please do your best to disregard the irony of that declaration.

It would appear that the New York Times article I posted about on Saturday (yes, Saturday--I got out of bed and everything) has once again raised the eternal driver vs. cyclist debate. Personally, I find debates tiresome, and when I sense them coming on I feel that same sense of dread I get when a recumbent rider's dayglo orange flag appears on the horizon, because in both cases I know something dorky and unwieldy is about to follow. What's especially frustrating is that most eternal debates are actually quite easy to settle. Nonetheless, we continue to return to them, like the dog returneth unto his vomit, or like Cadel Evans returneth unto the Tour de France. It's the Sisyphian futility of life.

Of course, part of the problem is that many of us identify too strongly with our vehicles, and we all feel as though everybody else should like them as much as we do, no matter whether that vehicle is a car, or a truck, or a bicycle, or some sort of bathyscape. Consequently, we're often enraged when we don't get that approval--even when our vehicle is kind of goofy. For example, it would appear that last Thursday's post has enraged a group of Mini owners. I have to admit that I didn't see this coming, much like I didn't see the tree that toppled me from my mountain bike some time ago. But I also have to admit that I was pretty stupid not to have expected it--just like I was pretty stupid not to have expected the tree, especially since it has probably been standing in the exact same spot since back when Minis were Austins. Because when Mini drivers order up their rally-inspired sticker kits and strap themselves into their little fun boxes, they feel good about themselves, and they think the rest of the world should feel good about them too.

But that's not how it works. You should respect everything, but you don't have to like anything. When someone sees me out there in my moisture-wicking chicken suit pedaling the ironic Orange Julius bike down to the Jamba Juice store in order to throw rocks through the front window, they don't have to like me, they just have to respect me as a road user. (And trust me, nothing commands respect like a chicken suit.) Nobody's as cool as they think they are, and no matter what, you look ridiculous to somebody.

So the point is: a) don't expect everybody to like your mode of transport, no matter how many wheels it has; and b) if you see someone in a chicken suit surrounded by a bunch of irate Mini drivers, like a scene out of "Maximum Overdrive" by way of Pixar, please stop and say hello. And please also feel free to save me.

That said, I'd like to explore what happens when people use their two-wheeled vehicles as a pretense for social interaction by checking in on the Craigslist Missed Connections:


you were riding your bike with no hands while eating a bagel - w4m - 24 (greenpoint)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2008-08-08, 8:57PM EDT

i saw you on my way to work this morning riding down manhattan ave towards williamsburg on your bike. i think you were riding a fixed and had dark hair with plugs in your ears? anyways, i was getting on my bike by peter pan bakery when you came barreling down the street right passed me. i was sooo in awe by the sight of it all, i just really want to meet you. it takes skills to ride with no hands and eat a bagel at the same time! i want to learn some tricks too!

Speaking of the driver vs. cyclist debate, this should dispel anybody's misconceptions that cyclists are behaving at all irresponsibly. I like to imagine that the rider was eating an everything bagel with cream cheese and lox, and that as he passed he took a bite of the bagel and a piece of cream cheese-covered lox slipped out of the sandwich and hung there flopping against his chin in the wind. I also like to think that the plugs in his ears were not headphones or jewelry, but were in fact rubber stoppers which he was keeping handy in order to seal his bottle of Cel-Rey. Like the poster, I too want to learn fixed-gear noshing tricks like this. However, I have sense enough to start small, so I've been practicing with bialys.




Obsessed with tacos, coffee; greenish eyes. - w4m - 27 (Williamsburg)
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2008-08-09, 12:59AM EDT

I see you in Williamsburg a lot, eating tacos on the street. Sometimes drinking coffee, maybe it's tea, I don't know. You 're skinny-ish, have longish brownish hair and greeny-blue-y eyes. Once I heard you talking to your friends about Entourage. You have a bike, I think, and I saw you reading Nabakov once, too. I think. Not that I noticed, or anything.

Anyway, you're completely my type.

You looked at me once in a way that made me think, maybe I was your type too.

Obviously, eating ethnic foods is the new bar-spinning, because it's certainly getting the attention of the ladies. Of course, the real question is whether he can consume that taco while riding a fixed-gear, preferably with a couple of corks in his ear for his Jarritos.





Cycler passes up chance to meet Runner (Riverside Dr. & 158th) - w4m (Upper West Side)
Reply to: [deleted]Date: 2008-08-09, 1:51PM EDT

Me: in white shirt, black shorts, sun glasses riding a red Trek mountain bike listening to IPod. You: tall, handsome, with a great smile. I was having such a great workout in the lovely weather today (Saturday, August 9th), I passed up the chance to actually say hello, versus just smile hello. Hope I get a second chance....

Life presents second chances so seldom that I figured I'd help by re-posting this here. Also, I wanted to keep going with the food theme, since we've already seen the whimsical consumption of bagels and tacos, and this person's photos include one of her eating a piece of pizza in a charmingly irreverent fashion. It's a photo that says, "If I can have this much fun just eating pizza, imagine what a blast I am while doing other stuff! Brushing the cat, microwaving popcorn, and purchasing toilet paper are just a few more things I do with wide-eyed abandon and uninhibited joie de vivre." It also complements the other photos, one of which says, "I had a boyfriend until recently," and another of which says, "I have blonde friends for your friends too." But most importantly, I posted this for Amir, since this may very well have been the woman he's been pining for.






Riding My Bike, You Offered Me a BJ - m4w - 26 (Nolita / Bowery)
Reply to: [deleted]Date: 2008-08-10, 1:27AM EDT
You: curly haired, tall standing on Chrystie St. trying to hail a cab with your friend.
Me: dark haired, light blue football jersey, riding a bike
You asked me if I wanted to give you a ride, then said you'd blow me.
Email me
Like I said, life seldom offers you second chances, especially when it comes to random sex acts from strangers. An offer like this is not the sort of thing you mull over for awhile, decide a few hours later you want to act on, and then reply via Craigslist. Not only is the spontaneity gone, but so are whatever intoxicants that were compelling her to make the offer in the first place. In short, you missed your chance. But don't worry, you're probably better off. Life can be Sisyphian enough without also being syphilitic.

I normally don't post on Saturdays, but I am today for two reasons: firstly, I want to end any speculation that I am an Orthodox Jew (not that there's anything wrong with that); and secondly, I want to share the fact that I've been quoted in the New York Times.  It's not every day you're quoted by a newspaper of record, and it's definitely not every day you get to rant about the idiot who almost ran you over in a newspaper of record.
Anyway, thanks to Jan Hoffman and the Times, and thanks everybody for reading.  It's Saturday, though, so get on your bikes.  (Unless of course you're an Orthodox Jew.)
--BSNYC/RTMS

We may have had porn this week, but the truth is there's nothing more stimulating than the pornography of knowledge. So in order to get you aroused for the weekend I've prepared another quiz. As usual, read the question, think carefully, and click on your answer. If you're right, you'll either see the item or something that makes it clear you're correct. If you're wrong, you'll see this moving Richard Dawson tribute.

Thanks, and good luck.

--RTMS





What can we learn from this forlorn Pista on Williamsburg's Bedford Ave.?

--Always lock both your wheels
--Always bring your bike inside when you spend the night a someone's house, even if their roommate hates bikes, and even if you're so excited to be finally "getting some" you're afraid to leave even for a second lest they come to their senses
--The mechanical abilities of the typical Williamsburger only go so far as removing wheels and seatposts
--All of the above




Which '90s dance music group incorporated bicycle imagery into the video for their biggest hit?

--Bel Biv DeVoe
--Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam
--C+C Music Factory
--Brooklyn Machine Works


What's going on here?

--Someone is "Staying Stylish on Two Wheels"
--Someone has gotten his thumb caught in his axle nut
--Someone has a detachable thumb
--Someone is a recovering thumbsucker


What's the best place to see someone with a sleeveless jersey, armwarmers, and a Ksyrium with a pie plate?

--Your local bike shop--Your local triathlon--The Wolfpack Hustle--Your worst nightmare



What is this man doing?

--Flossing his cogs with a homemade u-lock cog cleaner
--Lovingly tending to his pie plate
--Gratuitously showing off his many friendship bracelets
--All of the above



Who are these people?

--Mural artists
--The New York Times 27-inch bicycle tire testing team
--Members of a popular ironic metal cover band, Critical Mastodon
--Just your typical "holier than thou" SRM-addicted roadie elitists

Google recently launched Knol, a collection of user-written articles similar to Wikipedia. It's already off to a ripping start. Which is an actual quote from a Knol about finishing your first triathlon?

--"Take some time to familiarize yourself with marine life, because much of it can be dangerous, and fish can kill."
--"Scott is the new Cervelo, and 700c is the new 650c."
--"Deep-section aero wheels are incompatible with clincher tires."
--"I have no idea what I am talking about, and none of this would withstand FDA scrutiny."

It may amaze you to learn that I have other interests outside of cycling. For example, I've always been fascinated by fossils, which is why I read the New Yorker. I also really enjoy intentionally irritating myself, which is why I read the New Yorker. So this morning, during the mandatory downtime we all engage in on a regular basis, I pulled the latest issue out from underneath a stack of secret website catalogs, opened it, and saw this:



The Mini Cooper is the Felt Curbside of automobiles in that it's a neutered version of something that was once authentic, it evokes racing for people who will never race, and it's "cute" in a completely derivative and studied way. As a cyclist, I find Minis particularly annoying, because the trendier neighborhoods of Brooklyn are filled with them, and they're generally driven by the sorts of people who text their friends to ask them what kind of wine they should pick up for the party as they roll through stopsigns into busy intersections. It's only fitting then that these rolling graduation presents would be sold as a way to " go green." The people "going green" these days are the same people who did graffiti or experimented with homosexuality at their liberal arts college--they enjoy flirting with a lifestyle they don't understand in an environment where it's looked upon favorably, but as soon as it becomes difficult, unsafe or embarrassing they conveniently abandon it. Fortunately for them, you don't have to give up your car to "go green." Instead, you just need to buy a new one with marginally better gas mileage. And fortunately, "going green" also allows you to measure just how pretentious you are by calculating your "carbon footprint." Or, in the case of the Mini, your "carfun footprint." Hey, if people want to "go green" by buying a car, or they want to go vegan by ordering a hamburger instead of a cheeseburger, who am I to complain? But I still think a much better ad would have been: "Mini: It's Fun-tarded."
Having already sufficiently irritated myself, I figured I'd check in on the local PistaDex, which was a stunning 700 with this lone entry:

NEW Bianchi Pista 55cm Chrome - $700 (BROOKLYN.NY)
Reply to: [deleted]Date: 2008-08-05, 10:41AM EDT
This is a new, size 55cm Pista in the Chrome! this is a stock model. Here is the link to Bianchi's site for all the spec info and geometry:http://www.bianchiusa.com/07_pista.....the bike is comeing from Orange, CA, United States.it's comeing in 5 weeks so feel free to e-mail me ok.thanks.

My irritation turned quickly to fear. A $700 chrome Pista, coming from California in five weeks? This smacked of the supernatural. I knew there had been an earthquake in California, and it was entirely possible that it had freed some demonic harbingers from the molten recesses beneath the Earth's crust. These harbingers could only be harbinging one thing: the Fixed Gear Apocalypse. Was this it? Was the end nigh? Like five weeks nigh? Was it also chrome-plated, 100% chick designed, made in Taiwan, and being sold for well over the full retail price?
Then I had a more horrific thought. Increasingly, I'd been having the feeling something strange is going on. For one thing, recently I made an attempt to get over my fear of Williamsburg by having a drink there with one of the few people who will spend any time with me. As we sat at an outdoor table, I noticed a young man emerge from one of those fancy new condos nearby with a pristine vintage Italian track bike, which he mounted and rode slowly away. I didn't think anything of it--until he passed again a few minutes later. And again. And again. Could it be? Was he simply riding the bike slowly around and around the block? I then noticed a rider on a lime green track bike with lime green rims was doing the same thing--prowling the streets slowly like an ironic dayglo shark in search of equally detached and disinterested bait. It passed by again. And again. And again.
Suddenly I felt as though I was in the "Truman Show," surrounded by extras who were pretending to go somewhere on their bicycles but in reality had no destination. Similarly, I've also been experiencing increased vehicular interference lately. Anybody who rides (or drives for that matter) in New York City knows that drivers love to pull out of parking spaces without warning and make u-turns in front of you--u-turns they are unable to complete due to the narrow streets. Consequently they simply sit there perpendicular to the curb, obstructing traffic in both directions. If you watched it from above, it would look like a marlin leaping from the water only to get his spear caught in a really low drop ceiling. At any rate, this has been happening to me way more than usual lately. Sometimes three or four times on a single block.
Could it be the Apocalypse has already happened? Could it be that some Ed Harris on high is directing all these cars to turn in front of me in an effort to prevent me from going somewhere? Could this same Ed Harris be directing artfully tattooed people on stylized bikes to ride slowly around Brooklyn in order to distract me from some greater truth? Should I probe deeper, or should I simply surrender--perhaps by "going green," purchasing a Mini Cooper, and consequently feeling much better about myself and all I've done for the world by burning vastly more gas than I would on a bike but marginally less than I would in a larger automobile? If I didn't, was I doomed to simply wander the Earth on a bike forever like some sort of Ancient Mariner?

All of this was running through my head this morning when I entered Prospect Park and encountered this scene:

Yes, it was a peloton of geese. Suddenly, a sense of calm overtook me. No Ed Harris could have directed this--I knew it was real. I also knew right away that in order to experience true peace and cosmic oneness I would have to ride among them. To be honest, I was a little intimidated at first--I felt like a Cat 4 riding with the Cat 1s for the first time. But I also had an ineffable feeling that everything would somehow be OK. This was partly due to the intensely spiritual nature of the experience, but mostly because I don't have a pie plate on my bike and I knew they wouldn't try to peck my eyes out.

I've done many group rides and races before. Never though have I experienced the sense of true belonging I felt riding among the geese. I felt like that kid in "Whale Rider," only with water fowl instead of whales. It was truly magical.

I then proceeded to drop their feathery, waddling asses like they were standing still--which, being geese and all, they essentially were.

After I finished gloating, though, I reflected on the experience. I had been made irritable by a car, and I had been made content by a gaggle of geese. And isn't that what "going green" is really all about?

Well, I don't know, but I do know that geese are truly inspiring creatures. Especially when they're nibbling at their undercarriages in front of iconic landmarks.

If you haven’t heard by now, some USA Olympic track cyclists have caused a bit of a stir by arriving in Beijing wearing masks. They’re not the only cyclists who are taking measures against the poor air quality in the host nation, however. In my imagination, I interviewed some other cyclists to find out how they were coping with the smog:

Levi Leipheimer

“I’m breathing comfortably through the collar of my ‘Let Levi Ride’ t-shirt. I’m also pawing desperately at the ‘Let Levi Finish’ charm in my pocket. I don’t want to DNF like I did in ’04.”

George Hincapie

“Fortunately, the Hincapie Sportswear Performer chamois also has excellent air filtration qualities,” said Hincapie, who spoke through the crotch of a pair of bibshorts tied to his head like a feedbag. “I mean, the air is filthy here! I’m choking worse than I did at Roubaix!”

Christian Vande Velde

“I’d hate to offend the host nation,” said Vande Velde. “So I’m just going to surreptitiously breathe through this delicious Chipotle burrito the whole time I’m here. As far as anybody can tell, I’m just eating. This way, my lungs stay pink, the Chinese save face, and my sponsor stays happy.”

Jason McCartney

“Unlike the track squad, I did my homework and studied how Beijing residents cope with the poor air quality. Apparently, most of them breathe through small white paper cylinders filled with burning tobacco. So that’s what I’m doing, and it’s working great. I may actually keep this up when I return to the States!”

Cadel Evans

Cadel Evans refused to be interviewed, but rumor has it he’s been breathing through the stuffed kangaroo he received in the final Tour de France podium ceremony on the Champs Elysees. According to a source, this isn’t the first time the kangaroo has come in handy. He apparently cuddled with it that night in Paris as he cried himself to sleep, and he also used it in a French court during his civil suit against that groping journalist in order to illustrate the “bad touch” that very well may have cost him the Maillot Jaune. The source also added out of nowhere that Cadel’s excuse was bothering him but shouldn’t be a factor in the race. Oh, sorry, that should have read “knee” and not “excuse.”

Tom Boonen

Tom Boonen will not race in the Olympics this year, but just as a precaution he’s been breathing entirely through his nose.

USA Olympic BMX Team

“We’ve put special antimicrobial screens in all our bongs,” explained a coach. “This should help Team USA put the ‘Metal!’ back in ‘medal.’”

USA Olympic Triathlon Team

“We’re not worried about the air so much as the water for the swim leg,” said one competitor. “The Chinese apparently moved some factories in order to improve air quality for the Games, and according to Google Maps, until about two weeks ago the place where we’ll be swimming was a mercury plant. We’ll be wearing full radiation suits as a precaution.”

Vladimir Karpets

“I’ll be breathing through the facemask of a Fortynine Sixteen Outlaw Hoodie, as well as through the neck curtain of my own mullet.”


Of course, while the athletes are taking the heat for offending the host nation, the athletes themselves claim they are simply following the advice of the United States Olympic Committee. It also seems that USA Cycling may be partially to blame. In one of my many journalistic coups, I’ve obtained this fictional memo which USA Cycling sent to Olympic competitors:

Tips for Winning in Beijing

(Brought to you by USA Cycling and the editorial staff of “Bicycling” magazine.)

Every athlete dreams of Olympic gold. But when that gold is enshrouded in smog, you’ve got to take extra precautions. Here are five tips you can use to help you keep that edge:

1) A face mask alone may be insufficient to protect you from pollution. There are many items aboard your flight you can use as well. Pillows, sanitary napkins, and oxygen masks are just a few of the things you should consider stealing and breathing through during your stay.

2) Soot accumulates in small crevices and can compromise aerodynamics. Using a cotton swab, be sure to clean out bolt fittings, aero rim dimples, and chin clefts before the main event.

3) The oversized headtube of the Specialized Tarmac SL2 will keep you on course with precision, and its proprietary integrated bottom bracket will help you apply power to the pavement, where you need it most. Buy it if: you dream of gold. Forget it if: the only “medaling” you do is in other people’s affairs.

4) Something from Chris Charmichael.

5) The poor air quality in Beijing can greatly compromise your performance. So you know those performance-enhancing drugs you’re not using? You may want to not use a whole lot more of them.

Further to yesterday's post, perhaps the most compelling argument against unnecessary upgrading is the unfortunate reality of bike theft. Even the most compulsive consumer among us will admit that serial upgrading is simply another form of drug abuse, and that the immediate rush of pleasure and well-being that comes from buying an exciting new component is usually followed by a feeling of emptiness and despair that only goes away with the consumption of more carbon. And when that new product is stolen from you, the pain of withdrawal is acute and all-consuming. Take this victim's plea, to which a reader recently alerted me:




Stolen Windsor with rear aerospoke brook saddle my only asset (brooklyn)

Reply to: sale-779728746@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-08-02, 12:25AM EDT

in front of my house they stole my fix clipped my kryptonite i have been drinking heavier please any info leading to the bike will recieve a handsome reward i lost my best friend who (frame) was partly mine

the bike is a grey windsor 52 cm rear aerospoke toshi double straps brook saddle please please if your a bike shop and someone comes in to put a brake on hold it i have the police report to claim ownership

i don't want to drown in tears
and if i find you i am going to rip you apart -DEAD ASS
646593 3308


I read this with a heavy heart, as I hate to see any bicycle owner driven to drink by theft. Doubtless though the Brooks saddle and the Aerospoke, which together surely cost far more than the rest of the bike, made the loss all the more painful. Note how the victim has invested so much of his own identity into "upgrading" his bicycle that he refers to it as his "only asset." Certainly as human beings we need to stop looking at material possessions as assets, and instead should look inside of ourselves and discover the assets within. Sure, this victim may now be without a bicycle, but no thief can rid him of his true assets, which appear to include a drinking problem and a deep capacity for rage. Plus, if he's prepared to offer a "handsome reward" he must have some other material assets somewhere.
It's also worth noting that the victim suspects the thief may bring the bicycle somewhere to have a brake installed. It's a dangerous misconception among fixed-gear riders that fixed-gear riding is so difficult it actually confounds thieves and serves as a deterrent. Stories abound of opportunists who leap aboard unsupervised track bikes, only to be thrown from them like rodeo cowboys when they attempt to coast. If you subscribe to this notion, I recommend you cancel your subscription immediately. Firstly, operating a fixed-gear (even a brakeless one) simply isn't that hard, despite what many riders desperate for street cred may think. Secondly, I have it on good authority that at a recent convention for bicycle thieves held at the Sheraton in Atlantic City, NJ included a seminar on fixed-gear riding, so the more professional thieves are more than up to speed at this point.
Speaking of riders with assets, yesterday's post also inspired some discussion as to where Cervelos now rank among the monied cyclists of the world, and one commenter went so far as to posit that they have begun to "trickle down" to the common man. This may or may not be true, but it certainly is true that they have "trickled down" into the world of internet porn. The following pictorial was forwarded to me by another reader (I swear!) and the rider's assets are certainly substantial:


Of course, because the original images were "not safe for work," I've gone ahead and added additional clothing to the model in the interest of modesty. I chose the coveted Maillot Pois of the best climber in the Tour de France, mainly because I thought the spots complemented her assets, but also because even though she's not built especially well for climbing the mountains jersey seemed somehow appropriate. Her shorts were also woefully inadequate both for cycling and for covering her posterior asset (she had a considerable wedgie), so I gave her a much more sensible pair. Finally, I gave her a LiveStrong bracelet, because what Cervelo rider doesn't wear a LiveStrong bracelet? Take my word for it--she looks much better now. But if for some reason you still insist on seeing the original photo, just click here. (Keeping in mind, once again, that it may not be safe for work, unless of course you work at "Busty Legends.")


As the pictorial continues, the Cervelo remains a central theme. Once again, I've applied the more modest wardrobe, as the original photo made our Queen of the Mountains appear to be preparing for the "pinky test." Note that she's prepared for her workout quite sensibly. She has plenty of water (a bottle in each cage and another nearby) and she's got a lovely view of the harbor to keep her occupied.

Unfortunately, as the pictorial progressed it seemed to lose the plot a little bit, and the last few photos were woefully bereft of Cervelos. Instead, the focus was more on the model's post-workout shower routine. Frankly, she seemed to spend more time in the shower than she did on the bike! However, it must have been an intense workout, because she was so tired she was heavy-lidded and needed to lean against the glass shower door for support. I only hope she cleaned the bicycle as thoroughly as she cleaned herself.

I realize that some people out there might find this sort of thing degrading, and I certainly can't blame you. However, it's important to keep things in perspective. There is material out there that is far more degrading in every respect, and what's worse is you can find it on network television. The following video, forwarded to me by yet another reader, manages to demean cyclists and cycling (as well as any number of cultural phenomena and just about anybody within earshot) in a manner more offensive than a thousand buxom women being pinky-tested while riding a thousand Cervelos:

There's not a Maillot Pois in existence large enough to render this decent.

As cyclists, it can be difficult to resist the urge to upgrade. It’s especially hard right now, when so many tremendously exciting products are being announced. If you’re like me, you can’t visit a cycling-related website without learning about a new product you simply need to own right now. Just a few such products are:

Electronic Dura Ace

Finally! I don’t know anybody who rides Dura Ace and hasn’t been saying for years now, “You know what would make this group even better? Finite battery life!” Of course, while we can all benefit from electronic shifting systems, nobody will benefit more than triathletes. Not because the remote switches will allow them to shift without compromising their aero positions, but simply because they will now be able to shift, thanks to the “TT/Tri” version of the group. The complexities of a 10-speed drivetrain have long baffled most triathletes, who are unable to grasp concepts such as front derailleur trim and avoiding the large/large combination, and who consequently squander any aero benefits their behind-the-saddle water bottle holders may confer upon them by riding in gear combos that create more friction than a naked thigh on a metal playground slide. Riding behind a triathlete is like getting stuck behind a pepper mill—if that pepper mill were wearing short-shorts and kept trying to run into things. I’m assuming the tri-specific version of electronic Dura Ace will address the poor shifting habits of the triathlete by verbally scolding the user in a voice similar to that of KITT from “Knight Rider.”

Road Tubeless

Mountain bike tubeless tire systems have long traded convenience and easy tire changes for the ability to run extremely low pressures without risking pinch flats. Fortunately, the introduction of the road tubeless system brings all of this inconvenience to the tarmac, where the need to run extremely low pressures is virtually nonexistent. Frankly, I’m not sure the world of road riding is ready for tubeless. Not because road riders can’t appreciate the benefits, but because a disturbing number of them have not yet mastered the clincher tire. The sight of a $4,000 carbon fiber bike turned upside-down in the shoulder of the road as three or four people in various national champion jerseys attempt to repair a flat without removing the wheel from the frame is all too common these days, and adding an incredibly tight tire bead and some sealant to the equation does not seem like a good idea. The people who buy tubeless road systems will not be able to operate them anyway, so if they want to run lower pressures they might as well just use tubular tires. They can repair them in exactly the same way—by grappling vainly with them before pulling their Blackberrys from their CSC jerseys and calling for their wives to come pick them up.

Carbon Mountain Bike Wheels

Fortunately, when it comes to road and mountain technology, the exchange is not one-sided, and they’re swapping spit evenly when it comes to wheels. The roadies may have taken the tubeless road tire, but they’ve given the mountain bikers the carbon fiber rim. For too long, mountain bikers have had to do without the same level of wheel gimmickry road riders enjoy, due to the fact that things like rugged terrain and disc brakes call for more and evenly-placed spokes. But thanks to those same disc brakes mountain bikers can now enjoy the lighter weight of carbon rims, thus allowing them to take the weight savings and apply it to their already considerable midsections.

But what if you’re looking to increase your bicycle’s performance, yet you can’t afford these exciting upgrades? Well, don’t worry. As it turns out, these products won’t actually improve your performance—instead, they’ll compromise it.

As any good bike racer knows, rationalization is a key element to the sport. You don’t lose a race because it was too hard. You lose because it was too easy, and those damn wheelsuckers kept the group together, thus preventing a breakaway from forming—a breakaway which you would of course have gotten into, and from which you would have subsequently ridden away, thus winning the race solo while proudly displaying the logo of your sponsor’s urology practice. Furthermore, your placing in a race does not tell the entire story. Let’s say you placed 43rd in a race, but you finished with the same time as the winner. And let’s say the winner only works part-time, trains all week long, never drinks, and hasn’t known the sensual touch of another since—well, since visiting his sponsor’s urology practice. Meanwhile, you work full-time, never train, drink often, and had to pry yourself from the sensual touch of another in order to get out of bed and go to the race this morning. Sure, the “winner” crossed the line first, but you finished in the same time, and you didn’t give up anything in order to do it. Aren’t you the real winner here?

Similarly, the less you paid for your equipment, the more your placing is worth. If you cross the line on a $1,000 bike at the same time as a rider on a $6,000 bike, you essentially won, because you spent 5,000 fewer dollars in order to do it. Sure, $5,000 may buy you a fraction of a second here or there in the form of aerodynamics or lighter weight, but saving $5,000 is worth infinitely more in terms of bragging rights. And changing your perception of victory is way cheaper than changing your equipment.

No group has tapped into this wisdom more successfully than singlespeed mountain bikers. The singlespeed mountain biker revels in the fact that he’s accomplished the same thing as the geared rider, and he lives for that moment when someone is impressed by his ability to keep up while using a derailleur-less drivetrain. Of course, the truth is that on a lot of terrain a singlespeed mountain bike isn’t much of a handicap. In fact, often it’s an advantage. When confronted with a steep grade on a singlespeed mountain bike, you either have to stomp up it really fast, or you have to run it. Meanwhile, the geared rider will downshift eternally until he’s spinning a tiny gear so violently he simply falls over. It’s kind of like clothing. It might seem like you’re at a disadvantage if you’ve only got one pair of pants, but the fact is when it’s time to leave the house you just throw on your pants and leave. On the other hand, if you’ve got too many pants, you’ll need time to decide which ones to wear, then you’ll need to find a matching shirt, then you realize the shirt that goes with those pants is dirty, and you don't have any clean pants to match the clean shirt, and before you know it you’re 40 minutes late. Still, the singlespeed is perceived as a handicap, thus allowing the singlespeed mountain biker to stay up late doing bong hits, show up at the race the following morning, finish 15 minutes down on the guy riding the geared full-suspension bike who’s trained really hard, and still look like the toughest guy out there. (A notion that’s only reinforced after the race when he pulls on his one and only pair of grease-stained pants.)

So go ahead, upgrade if you must. But just remember: when you upgrade, anything that’s not a win is a loss. And when you downgrade, even a loss is a win.

Watching your favorite TV show, reading your favorite magazine, listening to your favorite radio station (do they still have those?) or visiting your favorite website can be tedious business. Fortunately, there are often little stand-alone bits of info-tainment called "advertisments" there to break up the monotony of your entertainment. Oftentimes, they're delightfully creative, and even the method in which they're deployed can be enjoyable in itself. I mean, who doesn't love a good pop-up ad? It's like falling victim to the old snake-in-a-can prank, or like opening a carbonated beverage only to have it explode in your face, or like peering into a hole only to have a frightened ferret scratch violently at your cornea. And that's fun!

Unfortunately, cycling ads aren't as creative as ads for more mainstream products. Sure, there is the odd stand-out, like that CamelBak bottle ad, or the Cannondale poaching ad, or the Look panther ad. But oftentimes they're just boring. Take this Carmichael Training Systems ad, for example:


Sure, it's pretty obvious that very little creative energy went into this ad. But when you combine low energy with inattentiveness, that's when the real magic fails to happen, as one reader learned when he made this rather interesting discovery. Alas, I'd have expected more than simple cutouts from the likes of CTS. Hopefully they'll have a booth at Interbike this year and will display a bunch of shoebox dioramas.

The truth is that when you want real, honest, and innovative entertainment sometimes you have to go underground. This is often the case with music, film, literature, and art, and it's the case with cycling advertising as well. Forget the "big boys" like Specialized and The Great Trek Bicycle-Making Company. Their ads are safe and boring. Pro rider, close-up of a grossly-oversized bottom-bracket junction, self-satisfied little tag line, and that's it. Meanwhile, the true underground artists are putting their full creative energy into selling their own bicycles on Craigslist. Here are just a few examples:

AMAZING BAMBOO MOUNTAIN BIKE BICYCLE FOR SALE (TriBeCa) [original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/bik/778041470.html]
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2008-07-31, 6:53PM EDT

It's the BAMBOOCLETTE!!
Designed by the French Vietnamese architect/ civil-engineer Quasar Khanh. All bicycle components (largely but NOT fully bamboo) are produced by family groups as cottage industry in Vietnam and the parts are then assembled in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City). Mr. Khanh says, "Bamboo is not only incredibly strong and sensual, it's a renewable resource, which makes it environmentally friendly." And it's so CHIC!
The mudguards and other sculpted parts (the seat is gorgeous!) are steam treated, making them fluid in appearance. The corner-connections are bound in RATTAN and the pedals are made of ROSEWOOD. There is also a rattan BASKET and a cool old-school HORN. 15 SPEED. Plenty of air in tires. Not what I would call light. WORKS perfectly. Excellent but not perfect cosmetic condition. (Handles bound (over rattan/bamboo) in clear tape, for example.) Wheel radius: 26", bike 35" high, 68" long, handlebars 24" across.
"Every bamboo cycle is as unique and personal as your signature. Two well-known bamboo-cycle-riders are Johnny Depp and Kate Moss." (The New York Times) Very RARE to find one in the USA!
$1000.00 new! Asking BEST OFFER.
Pick-Up only. Please call 212 431 [deleted] to set up an appointment/ purchase. THANKS.


We all know by now that bamboo is the stuff of which dream bikes are made. Craig Calfee knows it, Ivy League students know it, and hungry pandas and African mountain gorillas definitely know it. But this ad does more than just state the obvious. It also reaches deep into the reader and tickles that desire to be simultaneously unique and exactly like celebrities such as Johnny Depp and Kate Moss. (Kate Moss especially loves to straddle wood.) It also uses ALL CAPS to EMPHASIZE certain WORDS, and it even has "plenty of air in tires," so you know that by buying this you're saving time and money (what with air prices these days being so high and all). Madone ads don't say anything about air in the tires. I bet they don't even come with it, like they don't come with pedals. Ripoff! Also, it's tough to tell, but I think the bike may have a pie plate. And if that pie plate is made out of what I think it is, I just may have to buy this myself. (My only concern is that a bamboo and rattan bike might get creaky after awhile, but I suppose if that happens all you have to do is soak it in olive oil or something.)

1964 Dossche Sport Track Bike Frame Campagnolo chris king Fixie - $800 (East Village) [original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/bik/777316499.html]
Reply to: sale-777316499@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-07-31, 10:25AM EDT

This is a 1964 Dossche Track frame 56cm square.
One of ~200-400 ever made. The builder was Belgian and died of an unknown cause shortly after.
Beautiful undrilled double crowned fork. Includes Chris King Gripnut Head Set
Campagnolo dropouts and fork tips
Super tight track geometry
Uses 3 different lugs on HT, BB, and seat cluster. Paint is original, decals in good condition considering its age.
Asking 800 OBO.
This is for Frame/Fork/Headset only
The fork and frame ARE NOT drilled for brakes

This ad has something irresistible, and that something is mystery. Apparently the builder died "of an unknown cause" shortly after crafting this. To me this suggests the bike is somehow cursed, and that some misfortune has befallen each of its owners ever since. (Note also the dog's trepidation--they see things we don't.) Sure, common sense might tell you to avoid a cursed bike, but human nature doesn't abide by common sense. It's like that story, "The Monkey's Paw." We all think we'll be the one person who manages to get away with it. The current owner doubtless thought he would, but now he's just trying to get rid of it--in fact he's probably the dog in the picture. So go ahead, purchase the Belgian Death Bike--you know you want it.

One of a kind track/fixed bike for sale (West Village) [original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/bik/777585053.html]
Reply to: see below
Date: 2008-07-31, 1:29PM EDT

I enjoy the continous flagging, that still makes me smile. so keep it up, I am at a computer all day. Thanks for the entertainment. Copy and paste all day long.
For sale, amazing track bike. too small for me though.

Frame: Cayne Uno (steel) 53cm (fixed gear / track bike) Fork: unknown carbon fiber track (was spray painted green when i got it.)

Cranks: FSA Carbon Pro (165cm) ISIS Drive

Bottom Bracket: FSA Platinum ISIS

Stem: FSA Vision

Handlebars: ITM Road Drops

Front Wheel: Velocity Deep-V Machined (optional front brake, never had one on it) radial laced to Dura Ace Track Hub, Soma Everwear Whitewalls

Rear Wheel: Velocity Deep-V Non Machined, 3x Pattern Laced, Dura Ace Track Hub, Phil Wood 15t Cog, Dura Ace Lock Ring, Soma Everwear Whitewalls

Seatpost: Bontrager Carbon fiber

Saddle: Felt Racing

Chain: KMC

Top Tube Pad is also Felt Racing.

Here is the list of the prices not including the small things like tubes, trueing, top tube pad, and work done. along with shipping.

300 Frame and fork
40 Stem
25 Bars
175 Cranks
45 Bottom Bracket
13 Chain
60 Seat post
60 Front Rim
85 Front Hub
60 Rear Rim
105 Rear Hub
45 Track Cog
15 Lock Ring
65 Tires

1093 Total

Best Offer...

Many more pictures at Myspace.com/bardtheretard or email me at [deleted]@msn.com . thanks for looking.


This ad grabbed me almost immediately because the seller was antagonistic, and I love to do business with antagonistic people. Not only does nobody want to buy this bike, but people are actively flagging the ad and trying to keep him from selling it. But he's going to keep posting it anyway, and it's that unwavering dedication to being irritating that makes me want to give him money. I'd love to see a company like Felt take this marketing approach. They could use it for their Curbside (from which the seat and top tube pad of this bike were taken, by the way): "Everybody thinks this bike is stupid and phony and makes fun of it, but we don't care! We've got a bunch of money from our overpriced race bikes and we're going to copy and paste all day long like we copied and pasted the design for the Curbside from Fixedgeargallery." Plus, as the owner of both an ironic orange julius bike and a Diet Dr. Pepper mountain bike I have a soft spot for soft drink tribute bikes and this would round out my stable nicely.

awesoime single speed 52cm bad ass looking 16.5 pounds bad ass looking - $950 (Chelsea) [original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/bik/776996404.html]
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2008-07-31, 12:19AM EDT

this bike is sick. it's a single speed with freewheel set up ( can be flipped to be a fixy. ---when stripped down to one break and light weight pedals and no trimmings ( and cutting the handlebars if you want...the bike could get down to under 15 pounds easily. ) .

So, I am selling one of my single speeds I call “Vader”---it's all black and looks baddass. i already have gotten compliments on this bike after owning and riding a strida folding bike for 4 years. Super lightweight, black anodized Giant TCR. Great ratio between front ring & freewheel. I am 5’6” and I ride it…it's a PERFECT FIT.

Again, super light, passes the “Pinky Test”. it's 16.5 pounds as it looks in the pictures. below. i added another carbon fiber bottle cage, a pump holder, time attack clipless yellow pedals, and i switched the single brake from the front to the back instead of front so i wouldn't flip over, you can change this back easily if you don't like it ( or just buy another break and put it on ----otherwise the bike looks exactly like it does in the pic. also...it's 16.5 in that pic, the alteration i made ( mostly adding heavy old clipless pedals added about a pound. I have the original pedals though...the bike will come with both sets of pedals if you want so it's 17.4 exactly now ( i weighed it on a bike shop scale). this is super light. gets excellent acceleration from a red light---which is very important to me as a long time urban commuter, and a reckless ride through red light biker.

the bike can be lifted with only your pinky finger. this bike rides vey very smooth. i bought it off a bike mechanic who knew exactly what he was doing. i just decided i want a road bike with speeds. i thought about putting dérailleurs on this road frame ( the dropouts are not horizontal and even though it is a single speed there is still a chain tensioner on there if you look in the pics), but i feel it's easier just to buy a new bike with everything new. if you already have the right derailers and shifters, slap them on and you have a 2000 dollar road bike ( really light weight....just google the frame--it's like 2.1 pounds. )

this bike rides smooth. i've taken it for 3 , 30 mile rides in the few days i've owned it, and it's sick. real sick.

FRAME: 2001 Giant TCR Team Frame, Compact, Anodized ( frame doesn't scratch) Black (European Version), 16.5” / 52cm frame. ideal for 5'2 -5'6 .

FORK: Cannondale Slice ( carbon fiber)

FRONT WHEEL: A Class ALX220 700c w/ A Class Hub 20spk Aero Rim (black)--quick release. (super light--keep it locked up! or better yet, never lock it outside.)

REAR WHEEL: Mavic MA3 700c w/ Surly 32spk Flip Flop Hub (black)---quick release.

TIRES: Hutchinson Tech + Reflex 700 x 23 ( high pressure awesome)

CRANKSET: Dura-Ace w/ 42t Chain Ring & 17t Freewheel

BRAKES: 105 Front w/ Salsa Top Lever ( black ) & Dura-Ace Cable Housing

HANDLEBARS: Deda Newton w/ Black Bar Tape & Stoker Levers

STEM: Deda Newton 31 PEDALS: Dimension Metal Platform Pedals

SEAT: Fizik CP3 Pave

SEATPOST: Black Machined

MISC: Surly Singulator, Specialized Faux-Carbon Water Bottle Cage, Carbon Stem Shims & Lizard Skin Stem Guard.

This bike is not your typical Craig's List P.O.S. It's a killer bike!

the price is not negotiable. AT ALL. i can keep this bike easily, i'm fine with that. don't bother asking to reduce the price. i'm in chelsea if you want a testride. zeev

Quite simply, this ad has it all. Most importantly, it has an attention-grabbing headline. The bike is so "bad ass looking" he had to say it twice. He also knows his customer, and he's going right after the weight-weenies by advertising the 16.5lb weight. Sure, that's not especially light for a singlespeed road bike, and sure your average Ultegra-equipped geared road bike weighs something like 17lbs these days, but keep in mind that you can also get this bike down to 15lbs by cutting the handlebars. If you're still not convinced, the bicycle is called "Vader," it has received many compliments, and it's a PERFECT FIT. (It fits him perfectly so it's bound to fit you as well.)

Obviously I was already sold, but if you're somehow still on the fence you're sure to be pushed right off of it and into the "buy" pasture by the fact that the bike has passed the "pinky test." I'm not sure what the "pinky test" involves, but I think it may be what the doctor gives you if you've been having trouble going to the bathroom. Also, he was having endo problems so he wisely moved the front brake to the rear. Of course, you could put on two brakes, but then you'd add weight and have to cut more material off the handlebars.

Best of all, the seller looked to the two greats of Craigslist advertising, Amir and Kevin, and did a photo shoot. Like Amir, he clearly spared no expense, and like Kevin, he made sure you could see his ink. By the way, if you want a test ride you know where to find him. And while he's not negotiable on price AT ALL, hopefully you won't also have to pass the "pinky test."

Clearly, we're living in tumultuous times. Cops are tackling cyclists. Riccardo Ricco is not only confessing that he took EPO, but he's also outraged that he didn't fail more tests. And methanogens with cytochromes have considerably higher growth yields and threshold concentrations for H2 than methanogens without cytochromes. Whatever the hell that means.

I don't have an explanation for all of these things, but I can explain what's happening in New York City. Simply put, it's hot. Riot scene in "Do The Right Thing" hot. The kind of hot that creates the moist, tropical conditions in your underpants that are ideal for fostering new life forms. So as you'd expect, people are getting angry out there. And when people get angry, things get ugly.

I was pondering this very thing as I propelled myself to work today, only to be torn from my reverie by an urgent horn-honking. It was the kind of honking you hear from team cars as they try to make their way through the peloton to their riders in the break, and it was coming from a large van of the sort upon which you don't go knocking if you see it rocking. It was easy to imagine that inside it might contain an array of bean bags, or a rotating bed, or B.A. Baracus, or possibly all three, and its pistons snarled angrily like Mr. T himself used to while he pitied fools. I couldn't figure out why the driver was honking at me though, and I confess that this combined with the heat made me irritable. So as he passed I kindly told the driver to "Shut up," only I also included a bad word for emphasis. I didn't say it particularly angrily, mind you. Instead, I said it in the same way you'd say it to your friend towards the end of the ride after he's made fun of your Pentabike socks for the millionth time. But yes, I said it, and there was no taking it back.

"I'm just trying not to hit you, dumbass!," he replied.

This threw me for a loop. You'd think there were other devices in the vehicle that he might have employed more effectively if his goal was not to run into me, but apparently by simply sounding an alarm he thought he was doing me a favor. After a brief exchange that was actually fairly civil (apart from the fact that every sentence finished with the word "dumbass") I reflected upon the incident. An then it hit me. Some people are actually so stupid that they think horns make things happen. They actually believe their car comes with a magic button in the middle of the steering wheel that can change reality. Suddenly, I became aware of the constant chorus of beeping all around me--the kind that's always present in a big city, and the kind you simply tune out like you do crickets in the country. In every case, I realized the drivers stuck in traffic all around me were using their horns not to communicate information but simply in a vain attempt to change what was happening to them. It was as though they thought sitting in congestion was a bad TV show, and that by honking they might somehow change the channel and be transported to a clear roadway. I'm not sure where this notion comes from. I don't think there's ever been a traffic jam where somebody beeped and the thousands of others also caught in the traffic jam suddenly realized, "Hey, he's right, we can all just go!" and it was over.

Similarly, honking at me isn't going to change the fact that I'm there, and it's not going to somehow transform me into an ethereal presence that can ride straight through the row of parked cars besides me. Hopefully, someday soon, more people will realize that horns do absolutely nothing except turn people into bleating sheep. Maybe we can get Ralph Nader on the case and he can get horns out of cars the way he got seatbelts into them. The only time a driver ever needs to use his horn is when he's waiting at a light, the light turns green, and the driver in front of him doesn't notice. Then, and only then, a horn is useful. But you don't even need it then. In the horn-free future I think if a driver is stuck in that situation then it's perfectly acceptable after a polite length of time to inch forward and nudge the other person's bumper. Quieter, and way more effective.

My fantasy of a horn-free world almost made me forget the heat, until I was dragged back to reality yet again, this time by a Subaru wagon weaving more erratically than a drunken seamstress. As it forced me towards the sidewalk, I looked over, only to see something horrifying hanging out the passenger window. At first I thought maybe it was a hunk of smoked mozzarella cheese that had been rolled around the floor of a barber shop or something, but on closer inspection it turned out to be the shoulder of the shirtless passenger. Sickened, I realized I had seen something even rarer than a fixed-gear pie plate. I was actually within vomiting distance of the sweaty torso of Sasquatch himself. As the bile rose in my throat, I reached for my camera, but as I withdrew it the car containing the great beast lurched forward. I immediately set off in pursuit, but no thanks to an unlikely--dare I say supernatural--string of green lights I was unable to catch up with it before it escaped into the Holland Tunnel. All I managed was this shot of it careering back out of the bike lane before making a right hand turn from the left hand lane:




I know there's not much to see in this photo, and I know my story is suspect, so I can only assure you that I saw what I saw and leave the rest to you. Note also the Alabama plates. I realize the Sasquatch is supposed to be a Pacific Northwestern phenomenon, but I posit that what I saw was an even rarer Appalachian strain. It's much shorter and squatter (as you can see from the passenger silhouette), and while its fur is sparser than that of it's Pacific Northwestern cousin it is still quite thick I can assure you. And, most horrifically, I think it may have been female.

No sooner had I recovered from the disappointment of missing out on the shot that would have made me world-famous than I encountered yet another heat-addled moron. As I rode in the bike lane, a GMC SUV with Jersey plates pulled over in front of me, stopped, and began backing up. Naturally I assumed I was under attack, and fortunately I was able to escape by weaving around him. Once I stopped however, I realized I wasn't the target. I had actually simply had the misfortune of being too close to the parking space the driver wanted. Only another ape-like creature could be capable of this sort of stupidity, so in hopes of finally getting Bigfoot on film I walked into the space and took a picture:




Note the look of slack-jawed indignation on the driver's face. There may actually be a string of drool hanging from his lower lip as well, though it could also be a trick of the light. Here's a closer look:


As soon as I took the picture the driver and his passenger emerged from the car and demanded angrily to know what the hell I was doing.
"I'm working on a project," I explained. "I'm taking photos of people who almost kill me."
This sent the driver into an agitated state just a few degrees lower than a full boil. As I sat casually on my top tube, he explained some things to me. Firstly, he explained that I was stupid and that while he was doing something important I was out "playing games" on my bike. This upset me. I mean, sure, I had been playing "Flat Out: Ultimate Carnage" on my handheld game console while I was riding, but that's not a game--that's a way of life. He continued his diatribe. He said I wasn't "from Manhattan" but he was. I wasn't sure what this had to do with anything nor what led him to that conclusion. I was about to ask him if being born right across town in Beth Israel Medical Center counted as being from Manhattan but then he finally arrived at his point. "This is the most busiest place in the world and you're riding around on a bike being stupid." The use of "most busiest" in the sentence he used to call me stupid stopped me like a stick in the spokes. All I could do at this point was repeat "most busiest" over and over again like a shock victim. Finally he concluded his speech by telling me that I should thank him for protecting me from getting hurt. I suppose he had a point. I had been quite lucky to have been on the receiving end of so many favors this morning. First a guy in a van beeped at me so he wouldn't run me over, then a guy from Jersey who says he's from Manhattan tried to back into me. Still, I didn't feel lucky. I just felt angry. I told him that he had indeed hurt me and that my brain was now smarting from his retardation. Something told me he wasn't taking that well though, so as it sunk in I opted to ride off before he figured it out and started swinging.

At this point I had no doubt I was running the gauntlet through a mad world driven even crazier by the heat. I only had one goal at this point--to get where I was going as soon as possible without getting into any more trouble. Carefully I made my way along the bike lane, only to encounter a police car parked in it. The officer, clearly driven insane by heat herself, was quite literally staring into the middle of the empty street and writing a ticket to nobody. Here's a picture if you don't believe me:


I was no longer hot. I was no longer irritable. I was terrified. I felt like that guy in "28 Days Later" when he realizes everyone in London has become a flesh-chewing zombie. Note the manic glint in the officer's eye as she spots me. I didn't know if I was about to be tackled or eaten, and I wasn't about to find out either. I put my head down, pedaled hard, and made straight for the nearest air conditioner.

In response to yesterday’s post, one commenter said:

Get over yourself. It was an unprovoked assault by a policeman in uniform. Real funny. Must be 'cause everyone except you is stupid.

In all honesty I’d hate to think I gave anyone the impression that I side with officer Pogan. Rest assured that I think he’s a disgrace to Patrick Pogan, Sr., he’s a disgrace to Massapequa Park from whence he hails (as well as to neighboring Massapequa), he’s a disgrace to Nassau Community College where he probably majored in homophobia with a minor in snacking, and he’s probably going to be a disgrace to the strip club where he will ultimately wind up working as a bouncer because his only asset in life is his oafishness. More importantly, I’d really hate to think I gave anyone the impression that I think I’m smart. Please know that I’m as stupid as I come, which is what allows me to recognize stupidity when I see it. Trust me, the only reason I know the people on the iPhone lines are idiots is that my first impulse is to stand in that same line for 45 minutes until it finally occurs to me to ask the person in front of me, “Hey, do you know what this line is for?” I’m only human after all. I’m sort of like the “Dexter” of idiots, in that I criticize stupid people not because I’m better than them, but because I’m one myself. All I’ve got going for me is that I’ve come to learn over the years that if I want to do something, there’s a good chance it’s stupid, so I should probably think for awhile before I do it.

But there is a bright side to being stupid. As I said yesterday, stupidity loves crowds, and when you’re stupid you’re never lonely. And if you ever want to see a crowd of people operating in a bovine fashion that’s exquisite in its stupidity, come to New York City and watch pedestrians in Midtown. Here you can watch herds of people walk out into the middle of the busiest streets in North America despite the fact that they don’t have the light, and then express surprise when they’re subsequently flattened by wheeled traffic. All it takes is for one idiot to start walking, and then the rest follow. They’re like cattle who don’t realize they’re in danger until the bolt actually shatters their skulls. If you’ve ever seen the way sharks trick schools of fish into swimming themselves into one giant fish ball, and then simply take bites out of that ball like it’s an apple or something, you have some idea of what I’m talking about. And the stupidest thing about them is that they don’t even realize why it’s happening to them, as you can see in this (ahem) hard-hitting article from the New York Post. “Ever try to cross Sixth Avenue at lunchtime?,” the writer, Andrea Peyser, asks. “It's like human pinball. You get more warning before a lightning strike.” Actually, Andrea, you do get a warning—you get a red light and a giant electric sign that says “Don’t Walk.” I think it’s safe to say Andrea Peyser is a fellow stupid person.

Speaking of stupid, that creepy guy Rod Stewart who looks kind of like Barbara Walters once sang either “Every picture tells a story, don’t it?” or “Every picture’s of assorted donuts.” Because I’m stupid, I'm not sure which. But assuming it’s the former, I’m inclined to agree:

Both of these pictures tell the story of one of my favorite phenomenona in cycling, which is the bike with one part on it that costs more than the rest of the bike put together. In the first example, submitted by a reader, the carbon fiber Zipp wheel is the obvious standout. It fails to tie the rest of the bike together much in the way that the hardware store chain does. (A diligent thief could cut through that chain with a pair of toenail clippers.) In the second example, submitted by me, the Brooks saddle is so dear compared with the rest of the bike that the owner has elected to lock it instead of the front wheel. (The bike also sports a pie plate larger than the charger upon which John the Baptist's head was served to Herodias.)

However, when you're stupid, cycling isn't always easy to appreciate. For example, I recently received the following request from a reader:

I know we are a fringe element and hardly worthy of mention, but you seem to be holding back with respect to the randonneuring community. I feel slighted. I mean think of the opportunities. Generators. Fenders. Berthoud bags (not to mention the arcane world of decalaurs.) Where else do you find silly people riding through the night, in storms, on fixed gears, in the mountains for fun? So the Cascade 1200 isn’t hard enough? Go ride that 2000K in British Columbia.

If I seem to be holding back, it's not because randonneurs are a "fringe element." It's because the whole thing goes way over my head. I followed one of the links included in the email and the first thing I saw was a "call for poets." Frankly, I avoid poetry and anything that inspires poetry. I don't want to smell wet wool, nor do I want to read poetry about the smell of wet wool, and I have a feeling the randonneuring community's capacity for pretention may be as capacious as their saddlebags. Also, I love long rides, but I have no interest in excessively long rides, or in rides that involve sleeping in a bed other than your own. I avoid touring and 24-hour mountain bike races for the same reason. I don't believe in doing anything for more than five hours at a time, whether it's cycling, or working, or reading, or even watching TV. (I do however consider riding for five hours and then watching TV for five hours a day well spent.) I also avoid sleeping in strange places because when you do