Easy Riders: Roam Wasn't Filmed in a Day

(Your daily affirmation, via the Tweeter)

Have you ever wanted to "light out?" Just grab your Scattante, stuff a few jars of Cheez Whiz into your panniers, abandon your tiny house to the next duder, and go? Of course you have. Sometimes it's hard to not to feel like you hear the open road a-callin' your name. "Wildcat, Wildcat!," I hear it whisper sometimes while I'm watching "Judge Judy," and I look longingly at my Smugness Flotilla. Why not just load my family aboard it, leave the workaday world behind, and roam free for the rest of my days as the wily patriarch of a roguish clan of street-savvy vagabonds?

Well, mostly because I need constant access to clean restrooms, and life on the road is "grody."

Some people however are not confined by such "square" concerns, nor are they afraid to set themselves free to fly upon the capricious winds of fate. For these whimsical souls, the bicycle is their wings, the road is their home, gainful employment is their sworn enemy, and crotch rot is their bunkmate. Most importantly, though, the video camera is their constant companion. And of course the car to carry the camera. And the cameraman. And all their stuff. They're like modern-day Huckleberry Finns, forsaking the mighty Mississippi in favor of the log flume at Six Flags Great Adventure.

Yesterday, I mentioned a Kickstarter campaign in which a disgruntled MFA will draw his way across the United States of Canada's Athletic Cup. He will travel a well-worn furrow, plowed by many before him--including the members of Bandcycle, a pair of intrepid Brooklyn duders who rode across the country in order to see bands play and then made an Internet TV series out of it. Here is the trailer, which was forwarded to me by one of the members:

As a clean bathroom enthusiast and person who's always found it necessary to do some kind of "work" in exchange for the money with which I can purchase essential goods and services, I've never "lit out," and so I'm always interested in what empowers those who do. In most cases, the protagonists of these "lighting out" videos sort of skirt the issue, but the Bandcycle duders confront it head-on:

"We grew up with them telling us, 'You can do whatever you want. Any dreams you have, you can accomplish them.' And we believed it. And we, we still kinda do."

That's it! I finally understand it now! In fact, this may very well be the Rosetta Stone that explains every lifestyle trend, project, video, product, "collabo," artisanal enterprise, and social phenomenon by which I have heretofore been vexed or flummoxed. Apparently, people are actually growing up being told that they can do whatever they want! And so they are!

"I want to ride my bike and check out bands for an extended period of time instead of working."

"I want to sell fashionable extension cords."

"I want to be an ascetic even though I have the same amount of crap everyone else has."

"I want to build human dollhouses."

Actually, Best Made Co. might want to rethink their entry into the fashionable extension cord business, since if the tiny house craze continues to grow then there's going to be zero demand for them.

Anyway, like (I thought) most people, I grew up being told that you can't do whatever you want--or, more accurately, that you can technically do whatever you want, but if you do you'll be fucked. It's a good thing I did, too, since even if I had made it through samurai school I don't see how I could possibly have made a living at it. Therefore, the idea that there are now entire neighborhoods inhabited by people who really do believe they can do whatever they want is simultaneously fascinating and horrifying to me. I can't decide if this belief is the secret to a new era of human liberation and fulfillment, or if it's an insidious delusion that will lead us swiftly to our own artisanally curated demise.

Either way, I'm pretty sure that the Bandcycle crew saw the wrong side of Fred Woo-Hoo-Hoo-Hoo speed on numerous occasions:


Though evidently they also hit Fred "Oh Shit!" speed at least once:


And also fell fell victim to the "double-Fred body sled:"


And even the dreaded "triple-Fred chainring tattoo:"

Though it wasn't all bad, and there was the time they got to be totally lazy in two states at once:

In any case, I'm sincerely glad the Bandcycle duders got to live their dream and enjoy what looks like an "epic" adventure, and I'm also convinced we're now living in a new golden age of bearded American back-country adventure cycling:

If you don't believe me, look no further than Rapha, who are to "epic" as Primal Wear are to charity rides:

Rapha Continental USA Pro Cycling Challenge Prologue from RAPHA on Vimeo.

The above is their latest "Continental" video, and in it you will see untrammeled beards flowing wild and free:


By the way, if you're wondering what the "Continental" is, so are the riders themselves:

"I was asked at the start of this trip, 'What is the Rapha Continental?' It seems like no one knows."

It seems odd to me that something Rapha invented and made innumerable movies about would still be so difficult to define at this point. I mean, if you made something yourself, how can you not know what it is? Sure, there are exceptions to this, like the amorphous blobs kindergardeners make out of fingerpaint and macaroni, but I can't imagine this is what they were going for. (Though I could see Primal Wear introducing a fingerpainting jersey.) In any case, since everyone's having so much trouble, I'll take a stab at it and say that the Continental is a bunch of people who make movies of themselves riding bikes in Rapha clothes. Feel free to add something about the ineffable spirit of cameraderie that grows out of self-imposed suffering, and about how the smell of boutique embrocation mingles tantalizingly with the heady aroma of Stumptown coffee in the morning, and I think that pretty much nails it.

As for the beards, that's a bit more ambiguous. I'm guessing it's a symbol of freedom and individuality. Then again, it could also just be something the rest of the riders like to rub for luck:

(A friend with a beard: it's like a rabbit's foot for vegans.)

Of course, there's more to the Continental than that, too. There's also the bikes. The Rapha Continental riders ride handmade steel bikes in somber hues. They do not ride Dayglo plastic singlespeeds, as forwarded to me by a reader:

So what is it? It's a bike made entirely out of venetian blinds:

With bike design, it's almost impossible to produce something entirely new because the basic format has been perfected over 100 years. Leave it to a design student to shake things up with an altogether different take on the urban bike -- a groovy, multicolored ride made from plastic with shutter-shade slats.

Indeed, leave it to a design student to ignore a century of subtle refinement and build a shopping cart without the grocery-"portaging" ability. Then again, the venetian blind technology could be useful in time trialling--just open the slats in crosswinds and close them in headwinds. Perhaps Andy Schleck, who was undone by his subpar time trialling, could benefit from this innovation since I'm sure he's getting desperate:

Or else maybe Frank Schleck could grow a beard and Andy could rub it before every stage for luck.

Vibing Hard: Keeping it Positive

Hey guys! So stoked to be here, and super stoked on bikes and riding bikes and all the great people and stuff it involves. That's because biking (pronounced "bi-keeen") is awesome. Some things do bum me out though, like when I check my Twitter feed for more positive vibes and then see a negative "Tweet" like this:

So, like, I'm a positive person? The kind of person who phrases statements as questions? And who calls cycling "bi-keen?" So maybe that's why I don't understand how a video could make you hate bicycles? Especially when the video is totally positive and awesome, because I totally watched it and it totally made me even more stoked on bi-keen than I already am:



From the opening line, I knew I'd love this video:

"San Francisco loves biking."

Wait, you guys love biking? So do I! And when I say I love it, I mean I really love it. I also love awesome "B-roll," like rent-a-bike tourists throwing "doucheclamation points:"

We've all heard the saying, "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco." It's falsely attributed to Mark Twain, but it was actually a bon mot uttered by insane Ugandan president Idi Amin during one of his lavish cannibalistic banquets. And when Idi Amin quipped, you laughed. And when he claimed he was Mark Twain, you agreed with him. Or else.

Well, the longest ride I ever took was a trip across the Golden Gate Bridge, when I had to trudge my way through wave after wave of rental bike tourist, like some character in an absurd action movie who must single-handedly fight off an entire attacking army. This bridge is, of course, famous for its suicides, and during my fool's errand I came to understand why, for I very nearly gave up all hope and took the plunge into the icy waters below. In fact, one of the rental bike tourists actually stopped to take my picture as I sobbed, since spotting a jumper on the Golden Gate Bridge is like seeing the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, or witnessing a good old-fashioned dirty raincoat masturbator on the New York City subway.

But I pulled myself together, and steeled my nerve, and girded my loins (good thing I had that dirty raincoat with me), and eventually made it across. I'm sure if you'd spotted me I would have looked like this woman, also a "B-roll" extra in the above video, who appears to be fighting a gale force wind:

Oddly though nobody else seems to be affected. Perhaps she's the victim of a curse which causes her to be buffeted by wind at all times, no matter where she is. You can't help feeling bad for her when you see her fighting her way out of one of those fancy coffee houses on Valencia in her slicker, like she's Mark Wahlberg in "The Perfect Storm," and she spills her latte all over herself like she does each and every morning. The whole thing's just so tragically Sisyphean.

Of everyone in this video though I related the most to the Duder with a Fam:

(Duder with a Fam makes a "duderclamation point.")

Duder with a Fam is just a duder with a fam, and he open-hand-points towards a glorious and duderly future.

By the way, "duder" is just the word "dude" with a douchefier suffix, but if you look it up in the Urban Dictionary, you'll see that this is also one of the definitions:

I can emphatically state that, in using the word "duder," I in no way meant to evoke anything even remotely like the above. Where does a duder even come up with something like that, anyway?

Anyway, being a positive person who's stoked on bi-keeen and all, I also like to support grass-roots efforts to create cycling-related projects that are charming but also, by and large, useless--provided, of course, that they're positive ("positive" oftentimes being something of a euphemism for "useless"). And what could be more positive than a shirt thanking drivers for not hitting you?



Actually, it's super positive:

Thank You for Seeing Me is a message for all of us who share the road. Through a positive exchange of gratitude our goal is simple. TYFSM acknowledges you with a kind reward…a “Thank You” has the potential to go a lot further than a criticism or demand to be seen.

I do sincerely believe that all commuters--cyclists, drivers, ElliptiGOers--should strive to raise their consciousnesses and learn to coexist peacefully and harmoniously. However, I personally draw the line at thanking complete strangers for doing something that is a fundamental human requirement, which is to watch where the fuck they're going. Thanking people is a social gratuity, so by thanking them for seeing us we're effectively implying that they've done something extra-special. This in turn lowers our social standards as to what is indeed fundamental and basic behavior. It's like tipping them for poor service. If we start thanking people for seeing us, what's next? "Thank you for not shooting me?" "Thank you for not spitting on me?" "Thank you for not cooking and eating me, Mr. Amin?" If a driver pulls up next to me at a light and offers me a Snapple, maybe I'll thank him. But I'll thank him for seeing me just as soon as he thanks me for not urinating in his gas tank.

Marginally more practical is this handmade (or duder-made) decorative bike-hanging box:


Though I'm not sure I really needed to know any of this:

Also, I moved in with the girlfriend a few months ago and lost my wood shop. So, I have been working in the second bedroom next to the kitchen. I think it is pretty convenient being close to the kitchen, but she does not see it that way, so I was thinking of renting a garage spot. Plus, my time is very limited in there if the neighbors are home, due to noise.

Just say you need to rent a new workspace, the rest is what they call "TMI."

Speaking of TMI, there's also a similar condition known as "TMD," or "Too Many Drawings," which is what will inevitably come out of this project:


Basically, the artist is going to spend a year riding across the country and making drawings of the trip. Sounds like fun, but why should you support him? Because it's actually a poignant commentary about the fallacy of the "American Dream:"

The conventional ‘American Dream’ isn’t working right now. Hard work alone doesn’t guarantee prosperity with the current unemployment rates. I’ve been barely scraping by since I graduated with my MFA.

What kind of sick, topsy-turvy times are these when you can't automatically strike it rich with an MFA? Surely the American Dream is dead. I 'member back in the days when a feller [old-timey variant of "duder"] could leave school with an MFA and get hisself a job just about anywheres. All's a man needed in them days was a strong back, some fire in his belly, and a demonstrable proficiency in an artistic medium such as painting, drawing, photography or sculpture. Hell, when I left the navy I brung my portfolio straight to the nearest iron works. Foreman said he hadn't seen anything so moving since the German expressionists, and I was pulling in a six-figure salary within a fortnight. I guess them days is gone, this Obammer feller's gonna be the ruination of America, mark my words.

Yes, the times they are a-changing. In fact, they're a-changing so fast that a reader informs me tiny houses are already "out," and narrow houses are now "in:"

He's definitely going to need one of those bike-hanging boxes.

Regular Movements: Ordinary is the New Revolutionary

When we talk about a social movement, we generally mean (as Merriam-Webster defines it) "a series of organized activities working toward an objective." Consider for example the American Civil Rights Movement, or the Women's Movement, or the American Labor Movement. These were the plate tectonics that shifted our cultural landscape and transformed us into a more enlightened and egalitarian society.

Of course, now that (some) workers can collect a fair wage, and women can wear pants, and black people and white people can urinate side-by-side in perfect harmony in public restrooms all over America, it's only natural that we should enter into a period of "movement depreciation." This is because all the big battles have all been fought, and so now we're down to little skirmishes. Consequently, just like matching your grips to your saddle now qualifies as "curating," pretty much anything that's more than one person is doing at the same time now counts as a "movement." This includes riding a bicycle in regular clothes, as you can see in this article about the "Slow Bike Movement" which was forwarded to me by a reader:

Apparently, the Slow Bike Movement consists of "those who eschew speed and spandex in favor of sitting upright and slowly making their way through town in whatever they happen to be wearing that day." In other words, they're people with no agenda whatsoever doing nothing that's even remotely remarkable.

That's all great, but how is it a "movement?" The Freedom Riders of the 1960s were part of a movement, and I suppose the Klansmen were also part of a movement (albeit a twisted and reprehensible one), but the average schmuck who just sat on his couch watching "Mister Ed" and didn't really care one way or the other was not. Today, however, he'd be part of the rapidly-growing "Indifference Movement," and would be the subject of fawning feature articles about these brave preservationists with the courage to maintain the status quo by doing fuck-all and not giving a shit.

It's "passive resistance," only without the resistance.

Of course, like any modern movement, the Slow Bikes Movement is not so much an actual movement as it is a marketing demographic, which is why its spokespeople are bike company owners:

"When I think about the Slow Bike Movement, I think of bikes that allow people to sit upright, see your surroundings, be more visible to your environment that you're riding," says Public Bikes' Dan Nguyen-Tan. "As a company, we're in the middle of this wave of growing numbers of people incorporating a bike into their daily lives."

This is great news, since it turns out that I'm not just a regular schlub when I'm going to the store to pick up bagels. I'm actually a member of the Slow Bike Movement, and this makes me feel vastly better about myself. I guess I'm also a member of the Slow Running Movement by default, since sometimes when I go to get bagels I don't even bother with the bike. Slow runners are those who eschew high-tech shoes and Lycra running shorts in favor of slowly making their way through town in whatever they happen to be wearing that day. This is also sometimes called "walking." When I think about the Slow Running Movement, I think of shoes that allow people to stand upright, see their surroundings, and, most importantly, feel really good about themselves for no reason whatsoever. It's a wave of growing numbers of people incorporating footwear into their daily lives.

And finally, when I eat the bagels, I'm a member of the Slow Eating Movement. Slow eaters are those who eschew speed and special headbands in favor of sitting upright and consuming their sustenance in whatever they happen to be wearing that day:

Though I will occasionally "Cat 6" someone at Subway by trying to eat my sandwich faster than them.

I suppose the "movement" appellation isn't totally unwarranted, though, since it's true the average sub-Canadian has trouble understanding the bicycle when it's not being used as a piece of sporting equipment. In this sense, riding a bicycle in whatever you happen to be wearing actually is something of a countercultural act, which is a sad commentary on Americo-Canadian society. If only we could all move to Vilnius in Lithuania, where the mayor crushes bike lane-blocking cars with tanks, then maybe we'd finally get some respect:


Here's video of the crushing, which transcends "publicity stunt" and goes all the way to "smugness porn:"



“I wanted to send a message” Mr Zuokas told the media. “I want to point out that if you have a car and more money it doesn’t mean that you can park it everywhere. Recently there’s been an increase in this type of parking violations, and it shows a lack of respect for others”.

This is a fascinating concept, though it goes against everything I've been taught as a sub-Canadian. "Respect," as I've always understood it, is something you only use in lieu of money, like food stamps. Then, once you actually have money, you're supposed to use that instead of respect. I didn't think it was legal or even possible to pay people both money and respect. Isn't that a conflict of interest? Once you can afford it, I thought it was your responsibility to treat people poorly and to buy expensive stuff with logos on it. Those logos are basically de facto permits, and they allow you to do stuff like this:

Where's the mayor of Vilnius when you need him? I'd even settle for Mayor Bloomburg on a Big Wheel.

Meanwhile, in Australia, a reader informs me that cyclists are now being punished for getting in the way of people's car doors:


“We have seen a number of incidents recently, particularly in the St Kilda Road area, where cyclists have collided with opening car doors," Senior Sergeant Huntington said.

Naturally, then, the police are cracking down--on the cyclists. This seems akin to punishing a shooting victim for getting in the way of a bullet, but perhaps it's a southern hemisphere thing. Anyway, this is for the cyclists' own protection, since when you have an accident on your bike there's "no second chance:"

"There's no second chance for a bike rider. When involved in an accident it's always going to be a serious incident."

Right, because it's completely impossible to have a non-serious accident on a bicycle:



Laugh if you will, but he died of his injuries only hours later.

Yes, it's essential to keep up the illusion that cycling is a suicidal endeavor, for it allows your local authorities to discourage it altogether and then punish you for your own protection if you have the temerity to do it anyway. The truth is I'd much rather be involved in a boneheaded bicycle crash while I'm on a Slow Bike Movement-style bagel run than a car crash on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, but that's only because I tend to forget it's impossible to get hurt in a car but riding a bicycle is certain death.

Speaking of doorings, I wonder if you're likely to fare better against a car door if you're riding an "incumbent bicycle:"

The above image was forwarded to me by a reader, and while I don't know about the dooring scenario it does turn out that these so-called "incumbent bicycles" do raise visibility issues:

Incumbent Bicycle Car Crash In Oregon And Washington

Having handled many bike crashes (involving cars) in Oregon these last 17 years I know bikers get the bad rap. Often in bike versus car crash and this applies equally well to incumbent bike car crashes. Incumbent bikes are designed to ride lower to the ground making visibility often a recurring issue in bike car cases whether involving settlement or litigation of the injury case.

Biking laws in Oregon and Washington do not differentiate between incumbent bike law and non incumbent bike law so the regular rules of the road apply. I have seen more serious injuries involving incumbent bikes versus non incumbent but I have also seen a much higher knowledge of bike rules and biker expertise of those who ride incumbent bikes.

I still don't know what an "incumbent bicycle" is, though the Peterson Law Office's use of the term does make me doubt their expertise. Perhaps this (forwarded by a reader) is an "incumbent bicycle:"


Or maybe the builder just wanted to know what it would feel like to be a pair of "pants yabbies."

Rethinking Smugness: Steel is the New Bamboo

There's an old saying about bicycle components. This saying goes something like, "Light, strong, delicious: choose two." Well, this no longer holds true--at least if you're a panda--thanks to the rise of the bamboo bicycle frame:

(Freds who ride bamboo bikes are called "Gilligans," while their retrogrouch counterparts are called "Robinson Crusoes.")

In recent years, cyclists everywhere have been lashing stalks of bamboo together like desperate castaways fashioning rafts, and a reader informs me that Brooklyn's Bamboo Bike Studio is now expanding:

Not only that, you can now go the the Bamboo Bike Studio and make yourself a bike out of (play this sound as you read the next word) steel:

The Brooklyn-based Bamboo Bike Studio (BBS), where DIYers make their own bike frame out of bamboo in a two-day workshop, is opening satellite studios and branching out into the assembly of steel frame bikes.

Wait, what? I thought bamboo bicycles were the ultimate in sustainability, and that the world was going to be saved by a new generation of bike-cultural basket weavers who grow their own transportation in community gardens. Well, apparently not, since it turns out the bamboo bike is about as politically correct as a disposable diaper:

The decision to branch out into steel frame bikes, oddly enough, was made in response to the assertion that the bamboo bikes were not totally green because they can’t be recycled. The epoxy used on the carbon fiber joints on BBS’s bamboo bikes isn’t recyclable. “We thought that was a valid criticism,” says Odlin. But the studio is testing bikes made with a bio-degradable epoxy and Odlin hopes that eventually bamboo bikes will be totally recyclable.

In other words, as far as sustainability goes, the only difference between a bamboo bike and a Cannondale Synapse is that the tolerances on the bamboo bike are looser than a congressman's ethics. Well, that, and the fact that bamboo bikes look better than Cannondales when they're bedazzled with elbow macaroni.

I'm also guessing that nobody's yet ready to discuss the cognitive dissonance involved in experimenting with bio-degradable epoxy in order to build a bicycle which will ultimately be assembled with the same metal components used on pretty much every other bike anyway. Then again, maybe I'm wrong and they're also experimenting with ball bearings made from seeds and tires woven from grass.

By the way, none of this is to disparage the act of making your own bamboo bike, which I'm sure is an enjoyable and edifying experience--I just happen to enjoy the irony. And certainly a homemade bamboo bike is more interesting than an imported crabon one. Sure, if you encounter a peckish panda your bamboo bicycle is liable to be eaten, but a reader informs me that if you run into a bear on your crabon bike it's not going to survive either:

The Sternbergs and other passers-by stopped to help Woodard and collect pieces of his broken bicycle, which were strewn everywhere. The carbon frame was snapped clean in two places.

Of course, as any steel apologist will tell you before you tell him to shut up (it's best to derail steel bike aficionados immediately before they manage to gain momentum), had the bicycle been of the ferrous variety then it could have been repaired. Sure, those repairs will cost you the price of three new frames, but then you wouldn't be able to brag on Internet forums about how your bike survived a bear attack.

Furthermore, as Larry Olmsted would surely tell you, had the bicycle been a titanium Seven it would have fit so well that you'd have been able to avoid the bear altogether thanks to the bike's telepathic handling. In fact, the 100+ question Seven Cycles questionnaire actually includes an entire section on wildlife evasion. And, should the unthinkable happen and you actually hit the bear, you can use your frame's superior strength-to-weight ratio and oversized seat tube to prevent the beast's jaws from clamping down on you.

Fortunately, in this case, the Sternberg family was there to assist the victim, but what if they hadn't? What if Woodward had been forced to spend the night in the wilderness? Well, if you're ever trapped with an unrideable bicycle, the first thing you should do is try to find some bamboo and build a replacement. However, if this is impossible, you should immediately build a cannon from your spokes and hunt for food:

This is yet another reason for retrogrouches to feel smug about their handbuilt wheelsets. Go ahead and try that with your Ksyriums. Sure, you could probably build a depth bomb with one of those exploding R-Sys wheels, but afterwards it would be totally unrideable. On the other hand, all it takes is two spokes to build a bicycle spoke cannon, after which you've still got 34 left assuming you're "palping" the Jobst Brandt-approved full complement of 36.

Speaking of survival skills, New York magazine is apparently stunned that Anderson Cooper manages to survive in New York City even though he rides without a helment:

Here's the video to which they're referring:



Oh, give the guy a break. It's certainly a goofy commercial, but least he's not being shuttled around the city in a giant SUV. Plus, I bet he wasn't wearing a helment when he got punched in the head 10 times in Egypt either, and I don't recall people giving him a hard time for that:

Of course, while Anderson Cooper may be gray of hair, he's not yet technically one of the "peloton of Peter Pans," as described in this article which was forwarded to me by a reader:

When I saw the headline I just assumed it was about a bunch of people who ride in green tights, but apparently it refers to people over 50. I think we all know that cyclists age well, but the article did contain some interesting statistics:

Sixty-five percent of the members of the Santa Rosa Cycling Club are over 50, half the entrants in the club’s Wine Country Century were over 50, and 61 percent of the entrants in the recent Harvest Century Bike Tour in Healdsburg are over 50.

Really, only half? I'm actually surprised something called the "Wine Country Century" skews so young.

Help Me Help You: All You Haters Pull My Bootstraps

Hi! Welcome to my Kickstarter page. I am a sardonic cycling enthusiast and aspiring blogger who spends the bulk of the day in my underpants surrounded by soggy half-eaten bowls of heavily-sweetened breakfast cereal.

Also, I have a cat:

(The cat that I have.)

I am planning to create an Internet blog post about bikes. This blog post will have words, and pictures, and possibly video, and will feature state-of-the-art 1990s-era blogging features such as "hyperlinks." It will also allow readers to leave "comments" such as "LOL," "Cats rule!," and "You suck!" Just imagine not only being able to read about bikes on your web-enabled device, but also being able to tell the person who wrote what you're reading that he sucks. Holy shit, right?

This is where YOU come in. I estimate that it will take me anywhere from one-half to one hour to complete this project, as well as a budget of around $5 (I'm out of Froot Loops), and I'm simply not prepared to launch a project of this scope purely on speculation. After all, this is America (the crappy prize hidden inside your box of Canada Flakes), and Americans shouldn't have to make any sort of effort unless our success is assured beforehand.

So I'm going to need 50 grand.

Also, I lied about the cat. I actually don't have a cat, but I thought if I said I had one you'd like me more.

(I don't really have this cat.)

I'm sort of starting to like the idea of having a cat though, so after I get this blog post off the ground I'm going to launch a new Kickstarter page to help me get one. Your life would obviously be greatly improved by my having a domesticated feline, and I figure I can get a comprehensive cat ownership plan up and running for not more than 75 grand.

Thanks for your support,

--Wildcat Rock Machine

Sure, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Why, the nerve of this guy!" Trust me, I can relate. I mean, why would you give some guy $50,000 to create a blog post when you could give some other guy $50,000 to make a glove that flashes turn signals?

He may not have a cat, but he does have the technological know-how to transform your wildest turn-signaling dreams into reality:


He can also control your thoughts, and once we've all been duped into wearing his insidious device he will use it to turn humankind into an army of drones and order us to lay waste to the Earth:

If you don't believe me, watch the video again. At exactly 1:51, the following subliminal image appears:

Thus satisfying my personal criteria for supervillainy:

By the way, Gerard Vroomen of Cervelo also scores two out of three:

The second I see a lizard pop up in a Cervelo commercial I'm summoning his arch-nemesis, the Clean Bottle doofus, who will imprison Vroomen in his redundantly-capped Bidon of Justice:

(Jens Voigt realizing he actually has the second-worst job in cycling.)

I wonder if the Clean Bottle will also get his own Tour blog on Bicycling.com next year.

Speaking of heroes and villains, one of America's biggest bike dork heroes is Congressman Earl Blumenauer--who, a number of readers inform me, made quite a stir in the UK when he wore a bike pin on the BBC:

When asked about it, Blumenauer declared himself "aggressively 'bike partisan:'"

Even Jeremy Paxman couldn't resist, ending the interview with the query: "Can I just ask you, Mr Blumenauer, what is that extraordinary green bicycle on your lapel?"

"Well, I am aggressively 'bike partisan'," replied Blumenauer, "and this is the congressional bike caucus membership pin."

Sadly, this admission will probably spell the end of his political career in the United States, where the average person thinks a "bike partisan" is someone who's romantically attracted to both males and females.

Of course, when it comes to romance, there's no better way to woo your partner than with a bottle of wine you've "portaged" by means of a leather holder mounted on your top tube. I've briefly mentioned this product before, but I had not seen the promotional video, which was forwarded to me by a reader:

Besides the fact that he could have just saved himself a bunch of time by throwing the bottle into his bag, I also noticed the gratuitous insertion of this leather popular smart phone holder:

Clearly when it comes to superfluous leather this guy is nothing less than a genius, and I wonder what it must be like to be unable to look at anything without envisioning a leather holder for it. Is it a blessing or a curse? He's like the John Nash of tchotchkes.

But while humankind has been making stuff out of leather for millennia, it's only recently that we've unleashed the seemingly limitless potential of carbon--or, if you prefer, "crabon." Already though a new miracle material is on the horizon, and it is called "cabon:"

(Via Chris from Electra Bikes)

Presumably, engineers at 3T have figured out how to remove the "r" from carbon/crabon for weight savings while retaining the material's lateral stiffness, vertical compliance, and superior wallet-emptying capability.

Of course, even the finest cabon steed is useless if you don't have a flashy wardrobe to match, and what better way to garner covetous looks from your fellow Freds than with a genuine disembodied hand jersey?

(Via Wheel and Sprocket)

Complete with Renaissance-era male genitalway:


If glove indicator light guy could figure out how to incorporate a directional signal into that jersey somehow I think he'd really be onto something.

Data Wranglers: Fred Fight at the Flat Bar Corral

In the 17 years that I've been "curating" this blog, I've witnessed many things I never thought would come to pass. I've seen "fixies" sold at Walmart. I've seen Letle Viride play his first gig since 1969, when he took that bad acid and locked himself inside a port-a-potty for 46 hours. And now, I've seen Cadel Evans win the Tour de France.

Like most cycling fans, when I woke up this morning I thought I'd merely dreamed Evans's victory. However, once I hit the bathroom and opened the newspaper I realized that my dream was actually reality:


I found the entire article quite moving, but perhaps no line was more evocative than this one:

“It was really amazing to see him grit his teeth and just keep coming,” Jeffrey said.

Wow. Jeffrey must have been watching the uncensored European coverage, because here in America we didn't get to see that on Versus. Then again, we're a prudish culture. Sure, we did get the "Big George After Dark" special, but it was on pay-per-view and you had to be over 18 to order:

("Big George II: What The Bernie Saw")

For my part, I'd just like to set modesty aside for a moment and point out that: 1) Yesterday I filed the very first 2012 Tour de France preview (suck on that, "legitimate" journalists); and 2) I called the Cadel Evans victory way back on Stage 4:

Oh, how they laughed when Bicycling.com com filed my posts under "Expert Analysis"--and nobody harder than me, since calling me an "expert" on professional cycling is like calling Jerry Seinfeld an expert on aviation because he made a bunch of airline jokes. Moreover, being an "expert analyst" on Bicycling.com is arguably like being the sommelier at the Olive Garden anyway. Nevertheless, I feel I've now earned my expert stripes, and emboldened by my own sagacity I'm going to go ahead and predict that Cadel Evans will become Prime Minister of Australia within the next 10 years.

Sure, it may seem far-fetched, but when those bushy eyebrows are staring back at you from the Australian $17 bill (Evans's first act as Prime Minister will be to introduce a $17 bill and put his face on it) remember where you read it first.

Also, next time you're at the Olive Garden, may I recommend the Boone's Farm. It goes good with everything.

Speaking of the Tour de France, if you were watching yesterday's stage on Versus (the Olive Garden of sports networks) you might have seen this commercial, to which I was alerted by an esteemed reader:

In it, two Freds drift into town like tumbleweeds who shop at Performance and roll up to the local watering hole. One of them is on a flat bar bike, and the other on a bike with like those curly-type handlebars that they use in the Tour de France:

After securing their dorkcycles to the hitchin' post, they begin comparing units surreptitiously, like two businessmen at a urinal:

Flat Bar Fred has the new iBike Dash from iBike, and we can see from his easy-to-read and simple-to-navigate display that he's ridden eight (8) whole miles:

This is the expression a Fred with a flat bar bike makes when he sees he just cranked out eight freaking miles:

("Uh, can you say, 'Killin' it?'")

Meanwhile, Drop Bar Fred has some stupid old-fashioned computer like the kind the Amish people use on their buggies:

We don't see how many miles he's cranked out, since his display is miniscule and almost impossible to navigate. However, we do see that he wears a look of consternation, like a man who's having trouble in the bedroom:

("This never happens, I swear!")

Then we go back to the Flat Bar Fred, who has a full-on data boner. We can see his speed, distance, time, and even power:

Note that Flat Bar Fred has attained a maximum speed of 25.9mph, which is more than half the speed at which a Fred goes, "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!"

Presumably then, the Flat Bar Fred has not gone, "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" However, given his self-satisfied demeanor, we can infer that 7.9 miles and 25.9mph are the exact distance and speed at which a Fred becomes unbearably smug. We can also draw the following conclusions about the Fred-iverse:

1) Flat bar road bikes are the new drop bar road bikes;

2) "Decades" are the new century;

3) No ride is too slow, too short, or too pathetic to share and immortalize in digital form.

Of course, any true retrogrouch would scoff at the notion of using a smartphone as a cycling computer. If you like your rims boxy, your frames lugged, and your shifting friction, then you also surely use the age-old practice of "chamois divination."

Soothsayers of old used to tell the future by examining sheep's entrails. Similarly, the retrogrouch can ascertain every detail of a ride by studying the appearance, odor, and residue inside a pair of cycling shorts. Speed, distance, power...the well-calibrated nose can tell all of these things from a single whiff of a post-ride chamois. Even today, an experienced European soigneur is more accurate than the most sophisticated computer, smart phone, or power meter. Allen Lim may make his riders swallow thermometers, but his wizened Belgian counterparts are able to base entire training programs on taintal funk.

Nevertheless, Freds continue to adorn their cockpits with instrumentation that would be more than sufficient to pilot an aircraft--and speaking of aircraft, another reader tells me that, while David Byrne may not own a car, he does travel by helicopter:

Evidently, Byrne has forgotten a fundamental Law of Smugness, which is that you don't get to brag about not driving when you travel by helicopter. Jets, helicopters, boats, tour buses--sure, those are all fine, just as long as you don't ever hop in a Honda Civic. Of course, he did take a bike ride after the helicopter trip, so I guess it cancels out. Still, taking a helicopter to the ride makes the mountain biker who drives three miles to the trailhead seem like a food coop volunteer in comparison.

Lastly, here's a helicopter-inspired cockpit that was spotted by a reader:


I think this should have been included in the iBike Dash commercial. It would have given them both cockpit envy.