Riddle Me This: Lost and Found

Today is Wednesday, and we all know what Wednesday means.

It's Riddle Time!

Here goes:

Q: What has no fenders, a kickstand, and is bedazzled by a man who does not own a car?

A: This!


That's right, a reader informs me that you--yes, you!--can win this fantabulous glitter-encrusted sparkly bicycle that has been personally festooned by everybody's favorite carless bicycle advocate. Note that, as per the above-referenced post, you do NOT have to be present to win. Also note that carless bicycle advocate David Byrne does NOT own a car. In fact, implying that he does, or even joking about the idea of David Byrne driving a Dodge Caravan filled with braying soccer brats watching "Spongebob Squarepants" DVDs and throwing Chicken McNuggets at each other, automatically disqualifies you from the raffle.

Sure, a sitcom starring David Byrne as the patriarch of a typical suburban family would be extremely entertaining, but the truth is he would never drive a minivan, nor would he "hit up" the fast food drive-thru, nor would he allow children to do something as vacuous as play soccer when there are obscure ethnic musical instruments that they could be learning to play instead. At most, David Byrne might visit a food truck on his folding bicycle and purchase some organic kimchi. But that's as close to supporting the evil fossil fuel-burning infrastructure as he's likely to get.

Just ask alterna-warbler Thom Yorke if David Byrne thinks jokes like that are funny. He learned the hard way:

David Byrne: a man who has principles, boundless creativity, and a djenbe drum in his bathroom. But not a car.

Anyway, so let's assume you win the raffle, manage avoid using the "c" word (no, not that one, guttermouth) in Byrne's presence, and become the new captain of the Rhinestone Express. Sure, you may think you're in smugness heaven, but I can assure you that your life will not be all peaches and cream--or djenbe drums and kimchi for that matter. You still have to deal with real world stuff, like bike theft. Sooner or later your bike will get stolen, and then you have to compose a heartfelt "stolen bike" post on Craigslist. Just make sure you include all the pertinent information:

Was your bike stolen? (anywhere in NYC)
Date: 2011-07-07, 3:08PM EDT
Reply to: [deleted]

I comb through CL everyday looking for rare bikes. Most of the time I find garbage bikes way over priced but, a lot of the time I see people putting in pleas for someone to give them a tip on their stolen bike. Here's my questions for you NY.

Where was your bike stolen?
How? Cut the lock?
What type of lock?
What time of day/night?
What type of bike?

Once saw this chubby hispanic dude scoping bikes across the street from Bembe on South 6 and Berry. I can tell he was a bike thief because he had a rare track bike very poorly painted over. Nobody in their right mind repaints a rare track bike with rattle cans and doesn't bother to save the headbadge.

Before you get your panties in a bunch about this post. I am Hispanic myself so be EZ.

I admit I did get my panties in a bunch--not because of the "Hipsanic" part, but because of the part about how "nobody in their right mind" would repaint a rare track bike. If he saw that bike on South 6th and Berry, then he saw it in Williamsburg, and nobody in Williamsburg is in their right mind when it comes to bikes. People in Williamsburg have been doing ridiculous things to bikes for years now. Nobody in their right mind puts a $1,000 crabon fiber front wheel on a $300 Bikesdirect special either, but it's certainly not stopping them. Really, spray-painting a Colnago is sensible in comparison.

I do agree it's always a good idea to include details though, but don't forget to mention what color mini u-lock skin you were "palping" when the theft occurred:

As stupid as I find the idea of u-lock customization, that text really made me cringe. Maybe I should stop using the "h" word.

Probably less crucial though is describing the race of the supposed thieves in ALL CAPS:


STOLEN BLACK SPECIALIZED by BLACK guys - $500 (Gramercy)
Date: 2011-07-11, 8:13PM EDT
Reply to: [deleted]

Saw you three standing there at 20th Park should have double checked the lock to know I missed the frame! Bonehead move! You just made $500 if you see this or anyone knows the bike 58cm large frame all black 2006 Specialized Crossroads Comp Pro disc brakes front fork shock. VERY GOOD condition! It's worth about $500 less the all blacked out front rim you don't have. Meet in Union Square. Cash no questions asked so I can return the $900 replacement Specialized I just bought. Hit me up quick CASH right now CASH money..

Sometimes it's OK to laugh at bike theft victims, and I'd say that this is one of those times. I'm not sure that seeing three people standing near the bicycle you failed to lock properly means they stole it. However, if they didn't take it but they saw who did, I'm pretty sure they're not going to tell you now. Good luck returning the "$900 replacement Specialized" too, I'm sure the shop will be happy to take it back.

Meanwhile, speaking of futile searches, I was pleased to see the return of the famous "Fire seeks Ice" post from one year ago:

Fire seeks Ice for rematch 1 year later, WSH Bikepath - m4m
Date: 2011-07-12, 10:40PM EDT
Reply to:

Well my friend, It has been a little over a year since that FATEFUL DAY but I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN.

I HAVE NOT SLEPT A WINK THIS ENTIRE TIME! Instead I ride the West Side Highway Bike path looking for you, 24 hours a day - 7 days a week, on a CONSTANT vigil hoping to put this challenge to rest.

Lend me your ears, my friend, so that I may refresh your memory of the events that occurred May twenty first in the year two thousand ten:

7pm, zipping down the west side hwy bike path I started to notice some persistent ticking noises. Moments later I heard breathing noises that seemed awfully close, I instinctively turned my head and found you practically riding my ass. I eased my pace to let you pass, but when you didn't I cranked it up a little to leave you in the dust. To my surprise you came flying by me like the wicked witch of the west on your black and silver speedmachine.

As you passed, our eyes locked in slow motion and IT WAS ON. I noticed we were bizarre-o-world cyclists; you on your black and silver bike and white t-shirt and me on my white and gold bike and black t-shirt.
We raced faster than a unicorn on rollerblades that was grinding on a lighting bolt, and as I passed you for the last time we said our first and ONLY words, I said "Opposite bikes" and you fired back in an intense and raspy voice; "FIRE AND ICE".

When I told my sister about our silent bromance she wanted to know which one of us was Fire and which was Ice. I speculate that I am fire because my bike is white hot and your bike is Black Ice. Either way we must face each other ONE LAST TIME for a rematch in which only one of us will make it out alive.

IMPORTANT NOTE: THERE IS NOTHING GAY ABOUT THIS CHALLENGE!!! I AM HETEROSEXUAL.



Actually, he's not the only one looking, and here's another poster who may have had a run-in with Ice...or at least Ice, Ice Baby:

young biker tanned blonde rastas - m4m - 23 (East Village)
Date: 2011-07-10, 11:59PM EDT
Reply to:

hey man, sunday afternoon riding your bike in the east vil by astor place, you have blonde rastas, had them up, no shirt on were tanned, you looked funking cool as shit.
hit me up, we crossed eyes by 9th and 3rd and i was with a girl, lets get a beer talk about life.
if this works ill believe in Jah.

Or, it may just have been Ras Trent. Either way, I would also have liked to see the following added:

"PS: More Bob Marley, or Ima fucking kill you!"

Works every time.

So what's the answer? How do we stop the cycle of bike theft, and assumptions based on race, and "epic" Cat 6 challenges between the forces of good an evil? How do we instead raise cycling awareness as well as money for new bike racks? Well, with "nerd rides," of course:


A reader alerted me to this, and I'd like to know how you distinguish a "nerd ride" from pretty much any organized ride. Are we supposed to believe that tweed rides, and charity rides, and Critical Mass, and so forth are not nerdy? I browsed the photos that accompanied the article and I saw absolutely nothing to set this ride apart from pretty much any given day in Portland. Calling this a "nerd ride" is like calling an alleycat a "hilpster ride" or a recumbent ride a "beard ride;" it's just assumed and therefore redundant.

Mind you, I say this as a total nerd, since what other kind of person would need a gigantic smugness flotilla to "portage" a single kid and some random crap? Meanwhile, some people manage to get the same "portaging" capability out of a cheap mountain bike:

I happened upon the above bicycle recently, and my smugness was piqued by the home-made rack--fashioned, as it turns out, by a handyman operating under the name of "FixItBrooklyn:"

I was impressed by this, and if I were him I'd abandon the handyman stuff and open an artisanal hand-fabricated bike rack curation shop in Williamsburg. This is just the sort of authentic-looking thing people there would love to put on their bikes and use to not carry anything.

Elsewhere in Brooklyn, I also happened to spot a LAY-oh-pard fixie:


All it needs is a handmade rack--and perhaps a matching u-lock skin.

The Grand Scheme of Things: A Bold Caper

In yesterday's post, I discussed the implications of non-hipster-on-hipster crime. Certainly there is no greater tragedy than when youthful idealists are forced to confront the realities of urban living.

Or is there?

What happens when hipster actually robs hipster, which is what happened not too long ago when the MASH store in San Francisco experienced a break-in and a couple of bikes were stolen:
Despite the outfits, I'm actually not totally convinced that this was the work of hipsters, since hipsters love "authentic" accessorizing and this seems like an irresistible opportunity to finally wear some super cool "vintage" villain clothes à la Black Bart in "A Christmas Story:"

Then again, they were stealing bicycles, and riding in burglar clothes would have offended their sensibilities. I wish I had been present as they hatched styled the caper over $5 coffees on Valencia Street:

Burglar 1: "So what should we wear?"

Burglar 2: "Like, villain clothes, obviously."

Burglar 1: "But we can't ride in villain clothes. Will there be time to change into tight pants and cycling caps?"

Burglar 2: "Probably not. OK, let's just wear tight jeans and cycling caps then."

Burglar 1: "Can I at least wear a giant Chrome bag that says 'SWAG' on it?"

And so forth.

By the way, if you're wondering what the MASH store is, it is not a shop that sells action figures of B.J. Hunnicut, "Hot Lips" Houlihan, and Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger:

Rather, MASH is a fashionable bicycle-themed design concern that puts their "M" logo on Cinelli stuff and produces videos of themselves running lights while wearing backpacks:

("Out of the way! Can't you see I'm wearing a backpack!?!")

Anyway, a crime like this is not only a violation of the law, but it's also an egregious violation of the social contract. By charging extra for stuff with a logo on it, Companies like MASH provide an essential branding service in the hipster community, and when rogue hipsters refuse to pay a premium for this service it threatens to undermine the entire hipster economy. Worse even is the loss of trust, for the hipster community depends on its members constantly validating both themselves and each other. We can't have them regarding one another with suspicion. A house divided cannot stand--even if that house is in a fashionably distressed and rapidly gentrifying part of town.

By the way, while I may be making light of the theft, I certainly don't condone it. However, in the grand scheme of misfortune and injustice it is a fairly minor occurrence. Some broken glass, a missing fixie, a pair of fugitive hipsters bickering over which boutique hotel to hide out in and whether or not being "on the lam(b)" is technically vegan... Despite all this, life in San Francisco will continue on as it has for years: smugly, and with an overinflated sense of self-importance.

The truth is, there are places in the world where people are far more accustomed to hardship, and where tragedy is a way of life. Needless to say, I have never been anywhere near any of these places, but I do like to read about them in comfort and safety in magazines like the New Yorker:

In fact, I am currently reading the issue above, and in it is a very interesting article about cycling in Rwanda which looks like this when it's lying on my floor:

I haven't actually finished the article yet because my helper monkey, Vito, is reading it to me and he has an irritating tendency to get distracted by matters of simian onanism. However, I've been quite engrossed by it (though not as much as Vito can become engrossed by himself), and among the riders profiled in it is Gasore Hategeka:

Gasore Hategeka bought his first bicycle in 2008. It cost thirty-five thousand Rwandan francs, roughly sixty dollars. Gasore, who was about twenty years old, had worked for nearly half his life before he could afford it.

After buying the bike, he becomes a "taxi-biker," and eventually "Cat 6"es his way onto Team Rwanda under the tutelage of Jonathan Boyer. If nothing else, it serves to put all those "must-have upgrades" into perspective, and it's the sort of article that should be ready by every Fred who has so much as contemplated buying a $2,000 set of wheels. It's also a welcome respite from the idiotic musings of John Cassidy:

("I think, therefore I douche."--Douchecartes)

Speaking of fostering cycling, the National Interscholastic Cycling Association is in the midst of its "East Coast Outreach Tour:"

The goal, basically, is to make mountain biking a high school sport:

NICA’s mission is to bring the sport of mountain biking to high schools coast-to-coast by 2020, and a major step in that direction is the NICA East Coast Outreach Tour. Matt Fritzinger, NICA’s Founder and Executive Director, will be joined by our new Development Director, Ben Capron, for a 6-day whirlwind tour of the East Coast. Stops have been chosen because supporters there are already dreaming of a NICA league in their state – NICA wants to make that dream a reality!

Each stop will include an evening event, sponsored by a local organization, to include a presentation, Q&A, drinks and snacks. Come out and see what NICA is all about. Let’s bring NICA coast-to-coast!

Racing bicycles (albeit of the smaller-wheeled BMX variety) was very important to me in my youth. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it was something of a salvation--a life preserver that saved me from drowning in a sea of thick accents, thicker hair gels, and impossibly lavish Bar Mitzvahs. They may have it tough in Rwanda, but they know not the horrors of being trapped in a temple as an unironically bemulleted band belts out the greatest hits of the 1980s and aging garmentos dance to lukewarm renditions of "Celebration" by Kool & The Gang. Therefore, anything that makes bike racing more accessible to our youth and offers them an alternative pursuit is all right by me.

So get involved--because I won't, but I do like the idea of someone doing it for me.

But while I would love for cycling to become more mainstream, I still have my reservations about those tourist rental bikes with which the bridges are always teeming at this time of year--even if the bike rental facilities are staffed by "blond bearded dreamboats:"

Blond Bearded Dreamboat at Brooklyn Bridge Park bike rental stand - w4m - 28 (Brooklyn Bridge Park)
Date: 2011-07-06, 10:58AM EDT
Reply to:

I was all lost on my bike on a Sunday, so I went to the bike rental booth and asked your co-worker gal for a map and how to get to the Kent greenway...aka Williamsburg. She was all what do you mean yeah I have no idea because I live the opposite direction but this dude probably knows, he lives in Williamsburg. And you DID know, it was so helpful. I focused on your wonderful directions and I pretty much had them down UNTIL you like, smiled at me or like maybe slightly a little bit looked into my SOUL before I turned away to leave and oh my gosh you have blue eyes and wait a minute where am I oh yeah my bike I'm leaving now what was that?
So yeah, that was intense dude! Did you do that on purpose?

You live in Williamsburg. I live in Greenpoint! Email me! Let's go on a bike adventure!

ps your directions were totally helpful! Despite you having disoriented me with your all that soul-looking, I remembered them and totally made it home super easily. Thanks! I seriously would've been literally lost without you.

It's bad enough that most of the the people who rent these bikes can barely ride them, but it's even worse that some of the staff can't give directions from the Brooklyn Bridge to Williamsburg--and that those who can are lauded as heroes. Perhaps scariest of all though is that the person renting the bike is not a tourist and lives adjacent to Williamsburg in Greenpoint, yet can't find her way home. I mean, how did she get there in the first place?

She might as well just ride backwards for all the attention she's paying:

It's the new frontwards.

You Are What You Eat: The "Other" Salmon

This Saturday, July 2nd, the Tour de France bicycle cycling race will begin. As it happens, I'm supposed to write about this bicycle cycling race for the "Bicycling" magazine website, so with only two days to go I figured I might as well look into who's actually competing in it. In this sense, I am heading into the unknown--just like Alberto Contador:

So will Contador win the Tour again? Well, that depends on two things:

1) Is he too tired after winning the Giro of Italy?

and;

2) Can he win without meat?

Yes, that's right, after falling victim to the steak that bites back last year, Contador has given up the red stuff:

Contador Gives up Meat

Contador says he has stopped eating meat since testing positive for clenbuterol on last year's Tour de France, a result he blamed on contaminated steak.

The 28-year-old favourite to win this year's Tour, which gets underway on Saturday, also said in an interview published on Wednesday that his Saxo Bank team will have its own cook this year.

"No, I have not eaten meat again," he told sports daily Marca when asked if he had eaten meat since traces of clenbuterol were discovered in a test on the second rest day of the 2010 Tour, which he won.

You've got to admire Contador for not only sticking to the tainted steak story, but also going so far as to give up meat altogether in order to make it seem more convincing. It's like the "Seinfeld" episode where Jerry had to wear glasses all the time so he wouldn't offend Lloyd Braun. Still, I'm not buying the part about Saxo Bank hiring its own cook, since that sounds expensive. I'm pretty sure when they say "cook" they just mean they're giving one of the mechanics a copy of "Babe's Country Cookbook: 80 Complete Meat-Free Recipes from the Farm" and telling him to get to work:

Babe says, "Don't eat the little piggies."

Meanwhile, a fellow Tweeterer informs me that Dave Zabriskie is attempting to do Contador one better by riding the entire Tour De France on a vegan diet:

This might be newsworthy, except for the fact that as part of his "vegan" diet Zabriskie "plans to eat small amounts of salmon two days per week," which means his diet is about as vegan as Babe's ass is kosher.

Now, when it comes to eating, I say eat whatever as long as it's not endangered, makes you happy, and keeps you regular. Want to join the "nose to tail movement?" Good for you. Want to go vegan because you can't stand even the thought of a human hand tugging on a bovine udder? Perfectly fine. Want to eat the heart of your human enemy while it's still beating so that you may absorb his powers? Well, you probably shouldn't do that, if only for sanitary reasons.

But regardless of what you eat, you don't get to call yourself a vegan if you eat salmon. That's it. Once that pink flesh passes your lips you're out of the squat and banned from the coop. Turn in your hemp shoes to the smelly guy lying on a mattress he pulled from a Dumpster, and don't let the door with the punk show flyers all over it hit you in the ass on the way out. That's all there is to it. If you need a fancy, pretentious name for yourself, then I guess you can call yourself a "pescetarian." (That's someone who only eats Joe Pesci.) But all it really means is you're not a vegan; you're just another lox-munching schmuck.

Anyway, apparently Zabriskie is being mentored by another pretend-vegan athlete:

Zabriskie also consulted with a professional motorcycle racer, Ben Bostrom, also a vegan, who advised Zabriskie to include small amounts of fish a couple of times a week because of the incredibly large load he puts on his body during training. "He told me, don't get too hung up on the word 'vegan'," says Zabriskie. The fish, Zabriskie says, helps his body absorb certain vitamins and iron.

Again, I don't care what people are eating, but the word "vegan" means what it means. Don't get too hung up on the word "vegan?!?" Getting hung up about stuff is what being a vegan is all about! He's as bad as these minimalists who only have 15 things...except their accessory chargers. And their toiletries. And the fully-equipped luxury condo and summer house they share with their wife. Certain areas of life need to remain black and white, and the profoundly irritating self-righteousness of veganism is one of them. I mean, what if you replace the word "vegan" with "clean," and the word "fish" with "EPO?"

Zabriskie also consulted with a professional motorcycle racer, Ben Bostrom, also a clean rider, who advised Zabriskie to include small amounts of EPO a couple of times a week because of the incredibly large load he puts on his body during training. "He told me, don't get too hung up on the word 'clean'," says Zabriskie.

Or, what if you used "virgin" and "sexual intercourse?"

Zabriskie also consulted with a professional motorcycle racer, Ben Bostrom, also a virgin rider, who advised Zabriskie to include small amounts of sexual intercourse a couple of times a week because of the incredibly large load he puts on his body during training. "As he caressed me, he told me, don't get too hung up on the word 'virgin'," says Zabriskie.

I may have added a few extra words there, but I think you see my point. Being a vegan is like being a virgin: you either is, or you ain't. As far as I'm concerned, Zabriskie can eat all the salmon he wants. But he doesn't get to call himself a vegan, and he's officially out of contention for the maillot hemp traditionally given to the vegan riding highest on the GC. Nor does he get to wear a vegan tattoo:

(Vegans often opt for wrist placement since the word "vegan" is incompatible with knuckle tattoos.)

One rider who would never play fast and loose with the definition of veganism is the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork--or, as one reader informs me he is now called, "Bret:"


"If it rains take the bus," you say? Well not Bret! He trains for that century even when it's cloudy and drizzly:

Bret is clearly logging some serious miles. I don't know which charity ride he's training for, but I'm pretty sure he's going to dominate it.

Meanwhile, in the comments to yesterday's post (Critical Mass guy is still emailing me by the way), commenter "Mikeweb" linked to a distressing article:

I'd love it if we never had to read about a serious bicycle accident. However, as long as we do, it would be nice if the reporters could at least not always go out of their way to immediately mention whether or not the rider was wearing a helmet:

Ray Deter, 53, owner of d.b.a. New York in the East Village and d.b.a. Brooklyn in Williamsburg, was not wearing a helmet when he was hit on Canal St. as he headed to work.

What is the point of this, apart from unnecessarily heaping additional blame on the rider? He may have turned heedlessly as the article says, but whether or not he was wearing a helmet at the time has nothing to do with that decision. It's like the "Vegan Times" reporting on the incident and writing, "The victim had eaten a hamburger earlier in the day." It's a tacit judgment, and it's a device reporters love to use when writing about cycling.

Also, it takes two to have a collision, but I guess we just have to assume the 24 year-old in the Jaguar who keeps his weed in the car was driving safely (on Canal Street, where nobody ever speeds)--and also wearing his helmet, since the article doesn't say anything to the contrary.

On a much happier note, I've been waiting and waiting, and finally someone has reviewed the Mario Cipollini bike:


There were a bunch of words in the review, but these were the only ones I noticed:

a peach

tube shapes

curving around the rear

head

oversized, tapered

planted

seriously aggressive position

deep-section

riding position

feels close

full-on

massively oversized

taut

great fun to ride hard

overbuilt and stiff

buzz

vibration

remarkably good

spend all day

aggressive position

always in an ‘attack’ position

a lot of pressure on your lower back

not easy to sit up

Whew! I feel dirty.

Slap a noseless saddle on that and you may never experience "down time" again.

Image Problem: Appealing for Appeal

Further to yesterday's post, one commenter had the following to say:

Anonymous said...

You say "hipster" way too much, get over it for fucks sake.

June 23, 2011 6:01 AM

You know, it's just this sort of attitude that has given hipsters the image problems from which they're now suffering. If instead of denying their own hipsterdom and telling people to leave them alone like surly teenagers "foffing off" in their bedrooms, hipsters were to unite and work to overcome the public's perception of them, I daresay they might become respected and valued members of society. I'd recommend they start with a massive PR campaign aimed at the working class, and it could go something like this:


As for the campaign's slogan, I'm thinking something simple and catchy along the lines of "Hipsters: Like Real People, Only More Expensive."

Granted, the guy in the second picture is less of a hipster than he is just a generic Best Made Co. douche, but this is just a hasty mock-up, and I'm confident that the hipster community can harness its considerable graphic design skills to really nail it.

The truth is there's no use denying hipsters exist, and there's also no use denying that they make people angry. Frankly, I wouldn't be worried about it at all if it didn't have a direct effect on cycling--but it does, for here in New York City, anti-cycling forces have exploited people's hatred of hipsters by portraying all cyclists as nothing more than crazed brakeless fixie-riding scofflaw transplants. So for this reason alone I'd like to see them subvert this by working to gain people's goodwill.

In fact, the problem has gotten so bad that the Forces of Smugness have had to work overtime to dispel the myth that all cyclists in New York City are heedless hipsters. To this end, Streetfilms (a smugness subsidiary of Streetsblog) has been "dropping" a series of "edits" featuring complete and utter anti-hipsters. Sure, this may be a bit like dropping a bunch of golf balls on the BP oil spill given the sheer volume of moronic alleycat and hillbombing "edits" out there, but I suppose it's a start, and the impressive cast of anti-hipsters they've assembled so far includes a fashion-neutral dad:

Though even Streetfilms can't whitewash the reality of hipster cycling, for at 1:14 our hero is the victim of a violent Cat 6 attack:

Then there's the older woman undaunted by age or maniac drivers:



"We didn't have phones when I was very young, and my friends didn't have a phone," explains Lucette Gilbert, "so if you wanted to speak to your friend, you had to bike over to their house."

See, now people talk on their phones while riding, but back then people had to ride their bikes in order to talk at all. Plus, while the young and entitled complain about cars parking in bike lanes and pick fights with the cops, Ms. Gilbert just rides around them:

Clearly the "bike culture" could do with a little less smugness and a little more good old-fashioned "You know, when I was your age..." senior shaming.

Not only that, but Streetfilms also turns the high-pressure hose on the bike-haters by featuring a firefighter:



Firefighters are the polar opposite of hipsters in that they are as universally revered and respected in New York City as the hipster is reviled. Therefore, using a firefighter in a pro-cycling video is like using a child as a human shield in a gunfight. By the way, I couldn't help but notice this guy:

Streetfilms clearly have the most profoundly smug "B-roll" archive of any film production entity in the world. "Hey, I'm editing the firefighter video. Do we have a shot of a guy in a safety vest carrying his compost and his children in the same container?" Of course they do.

Speaking of Streetsblog, while reading it I learned about the following article, which aims to explain the "gender gap" in cycling:


In it, the writer asserts that a big part of the reason women don't ride for transportation as much as men is that they can't afford to:

Bicycling is, in much of the car-centric U.S., either a privilege or a punishment. That's why more women aren't bicycling. It isn't because we're fearful and vain; it's because we're busy and broke and our transportation system isn't set up for us to do anything but drive.

You may or may not agree, but either way you've got to admit that only a man could possibly order a ridiculous "commuter bike" like this:

I don't know how much that thing cost, but I'm sure it's enough to make most people say, "Fuck it, I'm buying a minivan."

I'd also be tempted to say that perhaps the phallic nature of bicycle marketing is something of a turn-off for women, but clearly Specialized don't feel that way. In fact, their new women's road bike has what may be the most phallic top tube ever designed:


Most noticeable is a new flared top tube, dubbed the "Cobra", which ends in a bulbous tapered head tube...

Wow. And don't be afraid to push on it, ladies, it won't break:

"The head tube looks cool, but it does serve a purpose by preventing local deflection," said Specialized engineer Kyle Chubbuck. "When you push on the top of an eggshell you can't break it, and that's what's going on with the dome head tube."

So to recap: This bike has a top tube called the "Cobra" with a bulbous head and designed by a man named Chubbuck. Available now at your "LBS:"

Or shipped discreetly to your door in plain packaging.

Speaking of brown paper bags, the photo below was forwarded to me by a reader, and I might wear a brown paper bag over my head if this bike belonged to me:

Evidently exotic flat-bar road bikes are the new trend in commuting.

Simply Complicated: Give Me Inconvenience or Give Me Death

Despite the many scientific discoveries humankind has made over the centuries, certain aspects of life remain enshrouded in mystery. What is human consciousness? What is the universe made of? Is there life on other planets, and if so why does it seem so determined to probe us? We may never know.

The world of cycling also has its share of unsolved mysteries, and if you're high-end cycling clothing manufacturer Assos one of the most vexing is apparently the workings of the clipless road pedal. Some time ago I posted this ad:

In which the model's foot dangles flaccidly next to his pedal:

It's tempting to dismiss this sort of thing as an oversight. However, a reader recently forwarded me another Assos "Sponsor Yourself" ad from VeloNews:

In which the model does manage to place his feet upon the pedals:

Though he's using an entirely incompatible pair of cleats:

At this rate it could be years before the people at Assos not only discover a pedal/cleat combination that actually works together, but also figure out how to make the cleat thingy go into the pedal thingy. I'd imagine primitive man went through much the same process before he figured out how to make fire, and he probably rubbed all sorts of things together--mud, fish, rabbits--before he figured out which combination actually caused combustion.

Still, going through this lengthy trial-and-error process in public is not good for their image (not to mention expensive), and they'd probably be better off going with something like this in the meantime:

Say what you will about the time-traveling retro-Fred, but at least he's got his lace-up shoes planted firmly on his flat pedals. Clipless pedals would only hold him back, and the only cleat he needs is that little SPD-looking tuft of hair beneath his lower lip.

By the way, in case anybody from Assos is reading, the cleat the second model should be using looks like this:

The "genius" of the Speedplay pedal, besides offering more float than the Dead Sea, is that it tricks roadies into thinking they are buying a minimalist pedal when in fact they are bolting a piece of hardware to their shoes that looks like it belongs on an office swivel chair. Roadies have an uncanny ability to rationalize any excess so long as it's not actually on the bicycle. This is because, just as dogs like to sniff each each other's rear ends, Freds like to lift each other's bikes at coffee shops, and it's important that the bike feel as light as possible. This is also why so many Freds will spend thousands of dollars on crabon wheels, yet are content to carry midriffs that make them appear to be great with child. If the "coffee shop lift" were done with stomachs instead of bicycles then the high end component market would simply vanish overnight.

Speaking of upgrades, Shimano's electric shifting is now "trickling down" to Ultegra:

I'm very excited about this for two reasons. Firstly, I want to "curate" an appropriately ironic singlespeed for the next SSCXWC, and few singlespeed setups would be more ironic than an electric drivetrain with no battery. Sure, at over $700 the Di2 rear derailleur had great potential to be the world's most expensive chain tensioner, but now that it's available in an Ultegra version my dream singlespeed is that much closer to affordability.

Secondly, if electric shifting keeps trickling down all the way to the lower end bikes then all those people who ride in Central Park on the weekends will finally be able to not know how to shift their bikes electronically instead of mechanically. When electric shifting finally reaches the masses, it will be like buying your grandmother a "smartphone" to replace the ordinary cellphone that already confuses and frightens her. Plus, when everybody in the New York area has to charge their empty drivetrains the night before the Five Boro Bike Tour the strain on the power grid should cause a repeat of the Blackout of 2003.

Of course, it's just these sorts consumer excesses that result in "movements" like singlespeeding, and fixed-gear cycling, and minimalism, and artisanal everything. Unfortunately, most of these movements eventually become excessive themselves, and in their pursuit of simplicity they become absurdly complicated. Consider the following article, which was forwarded to me by a reader:


Apparently, some hipsters decided that dessert these days simply isn't artisanal enough, so they imported a bunch of cocoa on an old-timey ship:

Two years ago a pair of bearded brothers decided to try importing cocoa for their Williamsburg chocolate factory—which focuses on simple, ecologically friendly sweets—by sail. They hoped it would save energy, help lure environmentally conscious buyers, and, maybe eventually, cost less. Their ship finally came in from the Dominican Republic on Monday night.

Naturally, this was needlessly expensive and wildly inconvenient:

Mast Brothers' will turn its cocoa beans into chocolate over the next year. They'll sell it to big-name chefs like Thomas Keller and Dan Barber and in grocery stores like Dean & DeLuca. Mr. Mast estimates that the Black Seal's shipment of cocoa will end up costing 25% to 30% more than usual. But he hopes to repeat the trip again and expects costs to decline as the company make its shipping operation more efficient.

I have no doubt that wealthy people in New York will gladly pay a 30% premium for anything made from these beans. As the saying goes, "You are what you eat," and since wealthy New Yorkers are pretentious pains in the ass it stands to reason that they'd want this reflected in the manner in which their dessert was imported.

Of course, if the bearded hipster brothers wanted to save energy they simply could have had it shipped in the regular way and then gone and picked it up by cargo bicycle, but then I suppose they wouldn't have gotten to hang around in Red Hook talking about their schooner and pretending to be pirates.

Speaking of cargo bikes, it would appear that the SmugnessDex in New York City is currently at $600:

Xtracycle! I don't believe it either! - $600 (Battery Park)
Date: 2011-06-20, 7:48AM EDT
Reply to: [deleted]

I hauled everything from two kids to $300.00 worth of groceries. I love this bike!! It's been my "truck" for 3 years. But alas, my kids now have their own bikes and we moved right next to a grocery store.
As much as I love this amazing bike it's time to share the joy with someone new.
Newly tuned up, 7 speeds, wheel and seat locking system (key included) front basket, water bottle holder.
Please see personal pix and gallery pix from the xtracycle website http://www.xtracyclegallery.com/2009_08_01_archive.html

As a proud smugness flotilla owner myself, needless to say I did the smug version of the "coffee shop lift" by checking out their hauling technique:


That is some "epic" paper towel portage.