Forking in the Road: Midlife Crisisway

Last Friday I mentioned "(R)Evolutions per Minute," a forthcoming documentary on cargo bikes, as well as the accompanying video. I did so because, as a bit of a budding cargo bike enthusiast myself, I find the project legitimately interesting. Also, I'm fascinated by the many forms smugness can take. For example, consider this comment one viewer left on the video:

Just don't have children. It's the nicest thing anyone can ever do for the environment.

TheLonelyImmortal 2 days ago

As cloyingly smug as people with children can be, it cannot compete with the smugness of the resolutely childless. Parental smugness hinges on the belief that your children are special, which is obviously completely sickening to everybody around you. However, non-parental smugness is based on an even more self-righteous principal, which is that the millions of years of human reproduction that culminated in your birth were somehow acceptable, but now that you exist the entire system should be shut down going forward. They're like those people who have no problem shoving their way onto a crowded subway car yet refuse to let anybody else on.

Though arguably there's no greater smugness than that exhibited by the typical American dog owner:


Or by the cat owner who also happens to be moving by bike:

Are the signs really necessary here? I suppose so, since once you attain a certain "smugness quotient" you need the world to know that you're only voluntarily inconveniencing yourself and that you're not actually poor or homeless, which has considerably less cachet in most gentrified neighborhoods. You want everybody to know you still live in a brownstone and not a refrigerator box--though I'm sure it's only a matter of time before someone in Portland starts selling "live-in bakfiets."

Speaking of the cargo bike video, one blog commenter pointed out that the filmmaker is using clipless pedals with her "bake feets:"

This is a tremendous smugness style faux pas, since everybody knows that the only appropriate footwear for cargo cycling is the sandal:

If you're new to cycling you may not realize this, but the rest of us know that the complexity of your footwear should vary inversely with the weight of your bicycle. That's why when you ride a 17lb road bike you wear a ratcheting shoe made from space-aged materials that integrates with your pedals, but when you're carrying 60lbs of wheat germ, a used papasan chair, and a nonplussed Golden Retriever you wear a pair of filthy worn-out flip-flops. You can tell a "real" roadie from his shaved legs and tan lines, and you can tell a "real" cargo biker from his armor-like callouses and blackened toenails. Armadillo-like feet are the tanned-and-shaved legs of the cargo bike world. This also explains the "(R)Evolutions per Minute" pedicure scene:

You don't want to let your callouses get too big, or else they keep hitting the chainstays while you ride.

Of course, not all the video commentary was negative, and one viewer had this to say:

The bride sitting pretty with the groom pedaling them off into the distance beats the traditional carry her over the threshold! If only there were more brides and grooms like that.

c33r0k33 3 days ago


I disagree. It seems to me they could combine their love of cargo bikes with the whole traditional threshold thing by consummating their marriage in the back of a pedi-Sukkah:
As it says in the Torah, "If that pedi-Sukkah's a-davening, don't come a-knockening."

Of course, there are those who argue that the whole cargo bike thing is merely an affectation being embraced by middle-aged people with lofty ideals and disposable income. Indeed, sometimes it can seem as though there's a proverbial fork in the proverbial road of life that one eventually encounters. One fork leads to cargo bikes, and the other to expensive road bikes, as in this article which was forwarded to me by a reader:


In particular, it appears that aging techo-douches are increasingly turning to Fred-dom:

Men who once thrilled to Kraftwerk and Italian piano house get a thing for cycling gear because it reminds them of their original Balearic jaunts and harks back to Weller during his Cappuccino Kid days.

Eeew.

Not only that, but they're actually comparing Rapha to the Sex Pistols:

Cycling convert Gary Kemp, Spandau Ballet's guitarist, remembers the first time he clocked the carefully art-directed photography of the Rapha website four and half years ago. 'It was like the time I saw the Sex Pistols at The Screen on the Green and swore I'd never wear flares again. Here was a new tribe and I knew that I had to be part of it. Within minutes I was buying clothes from this supercool English company, and I didn't even have the bike!'

By the way, just in case you haven't yet reached that fork in the road that is middle age, this is Spandau Ballet. Perhaps now, going forward, Rapha's famous "epic" suffer-fest videos will have a slightly different atmosphere. Rapha should also phase out the "Gentlemen's Rides" and replace them with "Douche Rides" like these:

Gary and I are, as we were in our nightclub days, quietly hardcore. Mid-ride coffee breaks are full of compliments on each other's weight loss and new kit. We will swap stories of 100-mile jaunts to the Chilterns, the 21km climb up France's Col de Mont Ventoux, the grit of L'Etape du Tour (an amateur stage of the Tour de France), the perils of the strada bianchi on the annual L'Eroica in Italy's Chianti region. Anywhere there are big hills, expensive hotels and nice restaurants, basically. We go, as we once did to Soho bars, as a group - a gang of over-pampered rock'n'rouleurs.

Eeew.

And who's the patron saint of douchey Freds? Why, David Millar, of course:

In modern-day pro cycling, the cane/train hero is David Millar, captain of the Great Britain team that masterminded Mark Cavendish's victory at this year's World Championships in Copenhagen. Millar is a three-times yellow-jersey winner at the Tour de France, who came second in the recent Tour of Beijing, just days after his wife gave birth to his first son. He also has something of a reputation for good times. His autobiography Racing Through the Dark is a roller-coaster ride of punishing races, doping scandals and hog-whimperingly big nights out. He name-drops not just Lance Armstrong but also DJ Erick Morillo, describes the zigzagging 20 per cent climb of Alpe d'Huez on one page and thrills to the delights of Paris's Les Bains Douches nightclub the next. He's that rare breed of sophisticated, worldly and articulate gentleman sportsman who wants to win in life as well as on the road.

He even parties at a club with "douche" in the name.

Naturally, if you're contemplating becoming a techno-douche-turned-Fred, you'll need a suitable bike, and another reader has forwarded me a handy guide to the "Best Custom Road Bikes:"

It contains all manner of NAHBS artisanal handmade bike porn, such as Felt:


And Cannondale:

And of course the ultimate in custom handmade exotica, Trek:


Though when it comes to buying a custom road bike, you'd be hard-pressed to beat this:

Apparently, "the bike's classic Brooks leather saddle will age nicely." The rider, however, will not.

And if the fork in the road you find yourself encountering is more of a "spork," you may be tempted by a recumbent bike. In fact, yet another reader has informed me that the first recumbent trade show has just ended:


Its origins are folksy and humble:

OMONA, CA (BRAIN)—Year after year at Interbike, show attendees from the recumbent industry would get together for a dinner to discuss the state of the market in their corner of the cycling world. Often, the talk would turn to creating their own trade show, said Chuck Coyne, publisher and editor of Recumbent & Tandem Rider Magazine.

I'm guessing the discussions went something like this:

"Hey, we should have our own recumbent show. What do you think?"

"Totally! I'm down. What about you?"

"ZZZzzz..."

Nevertheless, the show became a reality, and by all accounts it was a smashing success:

Some 36 exhibitors displaying recumbent bikes, trikes, tandems, hand cycles, components and accessories—as well as representatives from advocacy groups—were set up in a 12,000-square-foot hall, with a demo area outside for test riding the latest in laid-bike cycles.

I'm assuming the "laid-bike" thing is a typo, because I'm not sure how "laid" you'd get on one of these:

(Spotted by a reader in Virginia.)

Then again, judging from the sexy "colorway" of that fairing, I could be totally mistaken. "If that 'bent's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'."

Over the Rainbow: Transatlantic Smugness

(Via a reader, the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork demonstrates some on-the-bike yoga.)

For many Americans (look it up on a map, it's the place that keeps Canada and Mexico from dry-humping) the weather has been awful. Ice storms in New York, "epic" snowfalls in Chicago, and machete-wielding locust swarms in Milwaukee have all but brought everyday life to a grinding (or, in the case of Milwaukee, screaming "Why, God, why?!?" and bleeding) halt--and that's to say nothing of cycling, which in some places has been rendered virtually impossible. That's why, now more than ever, we need videos that will lift our spirits and "portage" them though the blizzard and into the spring. The following is emphatically not such a video:

robo-rainbow from mudlevel on Vimeo.

Good for you, paint boy. Go stuff your rainbow machine down your "coin slot."

Speaking of smugness and unwieldy bicycles, the two go together like Canada and Mexico would if America wasn't such a cockblocker, and I noticed with interest recently that Cyclingnews technical editor and beefy bottom bracket enthusiast James Huang has been living la vida smugness by spending an entire month using a longtail cargo bike instead of his car:

Carrying lots of stuff by bicycle and then bragging about it on the Internet is almost exactly like making a treacly video of yourself painting a pretty rainbow on the wall in that it makes most people want to punch you in the nose. At the same time, though, like most things that make people want to punch other people in the nose it's also immensely satisfying when you're the person doing it, which is why I do it too. Also, as Huang notes:

If nothing else, these few days have shattered personal perspectives on when a car is needed – and when it isn't. And looking back at my Garmin data, there's been a lot more time spent on a bike than there otherwise might have been, all while usually only adding negligible minutes to my errands when factoring in traffic and parking time. And of course, there's the small but not insignificant amount of money saved in fuel and occasional parking meters.

This has been my experience too, apart from the fact that I don't have a Garmin and I avoid any sort of "data" at all costs. (Plus, obviously driving isn't always the easy choice in New York City that it is elsewhere.) Sure, I'm riding a Surly Big Dummy, and he's riding an Xtracycle ripoff from the Great Trek Bicycle Making Company's "Gary Fisher Collection" (the Gary Fisher Collection is a line of bicycles and not a limited edition series of designer bongs as you might assume), but that doesn't mean we can't be Siblings In Smugness (or, if you prefer, "SISsies"). James Huang also makes another good point, which is that some cities are simply more conducive to smugness:

Having a bike purpose built for the task certainly helps but an even bigger factor to this project's success has been the bicycle-friendly infrastructure built into my local city planning, not to mention the generally friendly and curious – not hostile – attitudes of the drivers around me, many of whom are likely cyclists themselves. Local mountain bikers may sometimes say otherwise but Boulder is an insanely easy place to do business on a bicycle as compared to the US national standard.

Oddly, and to my great surprise, even in New York I've had a similar experience in that non-cycling people generally seem to be more curious than hostile--though I suppose that's due to the novelty factor, and once more people start carrying bulky items by bike they'll get back to the business of trying to run us over. Also, while some cyclists debate whether the new protected bike lanes in New York City are in fact an improvement, when you're actually hauling crap by bike they are nothing less than a Lobsend. There is one other crucial difference between my experience and James Huang's, which is that his smugmobile is electrically-assisted:

Woosie.

I have a feeling that, in the not-too-distant future, some researcher in Portland is going to devise a rear hub that is powered by vegan flatulence, and the world of "portaging" will be completely revolutionized.

Speaking of driver hostility, the BBC recently profiled a London cyclist who wears a helmet cam so he can catch motorists in the act of being complete douchebags:

I hate to generalize people based on nationality, but nobody--and I mean nobody--flashes a "They won't get away with this!" expression like an Englishman.

By the way, in the feature film, Ben Porter the helmet-cammed commuter will be played by Griffin Dunne:

("They won't get away with this!")

Oh, I'm sure they won't.

Anyway, I was expecting the helmet cam footage to reveal some shocking incidences of bad driving, but the worst thing they showed was this van getting a little too close to him:

I was definitely frightened by the driver, though, who practically exploded from the vehicle in a burst of anglo-belligerence:

Here in the United Cockblockers of America, we're terrified by belligerent English people, for the simple reason that we don't have much exposure to them. Everybody in the world knows Americans are crazy, since when we're not actually invading other countries we're attacking them with our entertainment. Honestly, would anybody on the planet be surprised to see video of an American driver murdering 17 people with an automatic weapon because a cyclist touched his van? Of course not--this is the land of Martin Erzinger! Indeed, people expect us to be crazy, since we've exported all of our regional insanity in entertainment form:

However, due to this imbalance in cultural trade, we Americans know very little about English craziness--in our naive worldview, the only people who are supposed to be as crazy as us are Arabs. English people are supposed to be dashing like James Bond, or charmingly befuddled like Hugh Grant, or lovable mop-tops like the Beatles or Bradley Wiggins. This is why our students lag behind children in the rest of the world--when we learn about things like the American Revolution, we can't even wrap our minds around the concept. "Really? We fought them?!?" So you can only imagine what would happen to one of us if we were to go to England and get in a tussle with a van driver--we'd probably just stand there waiting for Guy Ritchie to yell "cut!"

Clearly, though, all English-speaking countries share the same skewed bicycle/car relationship, as evidenced by this "heated debate" between a cyclist and a "motoring journalist." Guess which one is which:


"I think a big chunk of the problem is actually the cyclists and their attitudes themselves," says motoring journalist Adam Rayner:

Ha, ha. He said, "Big chunk."

Meanwhile, here's "journalist and keen cyclist" Zoe Williams trying desperately to keep her composure:

That is one angry cycling advocate. An American almost certainly would have shot somebody by now.

"The road is such a serious place," concludes Adam Rayner in an attempt to make Williams's trembling upper lip leap off of her face entirely. "If I'm burning petrol or diesel the legislation I'm surrounded by while you guys are diving in and out of traffic like swallows--"

"It's only a serious place if you're not watching people and trying not to kill them," counters Williams, failing to add that the only kind of swallowing Rayner is capable of doing is the kind that involves enormous quantities of food.

Anyway, just as it does here, the whole registering and insuring bicycles thing comes up, and when Williams denounces it the host says, "Then you're saying you want to be recognized but you don't want the accountability."

I don't know why some people think that drivers will suddenly respect cyclists if they need to register their bikes. Motorcycles require license plates, and insurance, and all the rest of it, but in my experience motorcyclists get about as much respect as cyclists do. Maybe next time someone tries to run me off the road I'll hold a driver's license and motor vehicle registration up to their window. I'm sure they'll apologize profusely and back off.

Of course, there's no better way to get respect on a bicycle than by demonstrating your awesome trackstanding skills, and a link left by a reader in the comments on yesterday's post shows just how seductive a well-executed trackstand can be:



track stand on alcatraz - m4w - 30 (oakland rockridge / claremont)
Date: 2011-02-01, 5:13PM PST

I was pretty impressed by your biking skills at the intersection of alcatraz and telegraph this morning. You held a track stand for a long time and then took off up telegraph like a pro. You were riding a tiny black fixed gear with red rims, you were wearing all black and had long hair and you were just ridiculously beautiful.

I was stopped with my bike on the other side of the intersection, transfixed. I was wearing a military coat and riding an old blue motobecane.

I work in a bike shop, I'd love to give you a tune-up.

It was almost charming until that smarmy "Hot Karl" of a closing line.

Utility and Futility: Let He Who Is Without Sin Cast the First Beverage

Recently, I received a mass email from the Oregon Manifest. Oregon is the state where the city of Portland is in. When post-apocalyptic half human/half lizard archaeologists uncover the ruins of Portland dozens of years from now they will doubtless declare it to be the home of the greatest "bike culture" that the world has ever known. That's why I knew the email was important. So I clicked on it and words filled my screen and I once again thanked the Almighty Lobster on High for the miracle that is the Internet and here are the words that came to me from the Holy City of Portland:

Bike People!

Oh! what a beginning, and Oh! how I groveled in obeisance. Yes, I am a "Bike People!" Speak to me, o Portland! Tell me what I am to do in thy name!

Oregon Manifest is asking designers and custom bike builders to create the Ultimate Modern Utility Bike.

Joy of joys! I knew this day would come! Portland has finally decided to lay waste to the world with a cleansing Flood of Smugness! And as the Lord bid Noah to build an ark, the Oregon Manifest bids us build the Ultimate Modern Utility Bike so that only the righteous Bike People survive the deluge.

What's a Utility Bike?

Asked the email rhetorically, and then answered itself:

The bike that fits into and enhances your everyday life seamlessly –

a bike that performs many tasks well, is easy to use, easy to secure, easy to grab and go.

Yea, it's an Ark of Smugness, aboard which you load every kind of "Bike People" two-by-two in order to "portage" them to salvation. Two roadies, two mountain bikers, two randonneurs, and so forth. The recumbent riders will be left to fend for themselves, because they can easily "retrofit" their contraptions into paddle boats.

In your world, what would Ultimate Modern Utility Bike do?
Get you from point B to Point B with little effort?
Haul Groceries and still haul ass?
Perform multiple tasks but still feel fun to ride?

Yes, yes, and yes! Also it would fly, brew coffee, and shoot deadly lasers, all while remaining Laterally Stiff Yet Vertically Compliant. Amen.

We want you to tell us what your idea of the Ultimate Utility Bike is!
We may include your submission in our upcoming Oregon Manifest video broadcast on our website.
Send us a 1-2 minute video of yourself completing the following three sentences:


1. I'm _____________ from _________, ____ and this is my idea of the ultimate utility bike.

Uh, BSNYC/RTMS from Terra Haute, IN.

2. The Ultimate Modern Utility Bikes should....
("take me to work, allow me to shop for weekly groceries, carry my kid, store in my office easily")

...portage stuff, fly, brew coffee and kill.

3. With the Ultimate Utility bike I would....
("get to work, stop off at the library, pick up a few things at the grocery story, then ride over to the next town to visit my friend")

...portage stuff, fly, brew coffee and kill.

WE ALSO INVITE YOU TO DRAW A PICTURE OF YOUR IDEA

Invitation accepted:

:::: Please pass this email on to others that might have something to say! ::::

Obviously, if you're a real-life bikemaker or just have artisanal tendencies and want to submit, contact the Oregon Manifest, but you're unlikely to outdo my Flying Death Ark.

Also, when submitting your plans, make sure to denote all measurements in cubits.

Still, we cyclists are a fickle bunch, and no sooner have we obtained our "dream" bike than we have listed it for sale on the Serotta forums in order to fund a newer, better, dreamier dream bike built by someone with more cachet and a longer wait list. I'm certainly no exception, and only moments after designing my Flying Death Ark I visited Craigslist and found something even better:

Urban Assault Vehicle electric bike (Williamsburg )
Date: 2011-01-02, 10:12AM EST
Reply to: [deleted]

This is not one of those cheap production electric bikes . It bad ass NYC transportation. Once your ride a bike like this you never ride the NYC transit again. Come check it out! 1000 watts of power @48volts will take you 30mph for 30 miles on one charge no problem Features : Cruise Control , Rock Shox full suspension, shimano gears, front and rear disk brakes, topeak defender2 fenders, Led Headlight and rear Flasher everything is brand new ready to roll. more info upon request. Please feel free to email with any ?s Building more bikes as we speak. Thanks for looking!~ electric bike~electric bicycle

Yes, it's a Bikesdirect dual-suspension mountain bike with an electric motor on it, and yes, "it bad ass NYC transportation." Obviously this bike boasts many fine features, but the standout is the "cruise control" which is what's going to allow you to plow through snowdrifts and throngs of pedestrians in crosswalks like a speeding subway train through a gigantic Portland Cream from Voodoo Doughnuts. From the looks of the picture on the left it even has some sort of rear rack-mounted missile launcher, and it's certainly not a bike for the sorts of dainty people who use pain-relieving unguents, as in this ad that was forwarded to me by a reader:

Amazingly, this ad has actually been running in recent print editions of VeloNews, and is not a relic from some defunct periodical from the previous century as the rider depicted in it might suggest:

Clearly, the marketing department at Perform Pain Reliever have made a bold and daring choice by foregoing the typical model astride a "cutting-edge" bicycle featuring the usual crabon fribé frippery and instead choosing a time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork, and for this we should applaud them--even if the typical VeloNews reader is probably soiling his Assos bib shorts in horror.

Speaking of crabon, it would seem as though professional cyclocrossing person Joachim Parbo recently fell for the old "let me see your bike real quick" flim-flam:

Fortunately, the bike was recovered, though it did sustain some damage:

The white Leopard letters on the prototype frame had been scraped off. The same happened to the stickers on the Zipp wheels. Unfortunately the Zipp rear wheel had 2 spokes ripped out from what looked like a nasty chain suck between the spokes and the cassette. The SRAM deraileur was also bent.

Clearly the thief was in the process of replacing the logos on the wheels with the message "All You Haters Suck My Balls," and the bent rear derailleur is a telltale sign that he was also attempting a hasty fixed-gear conversion. As for the broken spokes, since the wheels were Zipps, that falls under the category of ordinary wear and tear.

In any case, had the bicycle not been recovered, it probably would have ultimately met some horrible fate as a polo bike, which for a racing bicycle is the equivalent of forced prostitution. Speaking of bike polo, another reader informs me that there is currently a raging controversy surrounding an unfortunate poloist who received some unwanted "hot head:"

Evidently, as is common among children in playgrounds, there was an argument over who was allowed to play and hitting (and, in this case, beverage-hurling) ensued:

So this past friday new years eve 2010 we here in Lexington played some last of the year polo and had a great day. That was until Jared or "the great zombo" on the internet, got mad that he did not get thrown into a game and threw a full, just opened four loko at me hitting me in the FACE! As I walked up to him to ask him what the hell his problem was with my hands down, he sucker punches me in the side of the face. At this point I was in shock that a "friend" was willing to get so mad that he did not get into a game. So the third and final punch he threw at me I turned at the last min and took it to the ear. I was pissed!!! I walked up to him being held back by 2 of the 20 witness's and he head butts me breaking my nose. Keep in mind I NEVER threw a punch I did not raise my hands like I was even going to, and the only thing I did was jokingly throw his mallet over the fence 10 feet away. Not knowing how mad he really was!?!? HAPPY FUCKIN NEW YEAR

What should happen when it's gone to far? Legal?

I'd like to take this opportunity to publicly decry this craven act of violence, and Jared (otherwise known as "The Great Zombo", apparently) should be ashamed of himself--even more than the ordinary amount of shame one should feel for playing bike polo at all, which is saying a lot. Everybody knows that there's an unwritten law among the heavily tattooed hipsters who do things like ride track bikes without brakes on the street, participate in alleycats and play bike polo, and it is this: "We're supposed to look tough, not be tough!" Once somebody betrays this implicit understanding by actually striking a blow, the entire image falls apart, and that can't be allowed to happen. It's the same as the nuclear balance of power, wherein human survival depends on a bunch of countries being allowed to have nuclear weapons without ever actually launching them. As far as what should happen to "The Great Zombo," his actions impart on him the status of a rogue state like North Korea, so I'd recommend starting with sanctions (no access to the local track bike boutique, food co-op, or art school educated tattoo artist), gauge the effectiveness of these sanctions, and go from there.

Also, it should go without saying that he should not be allowed to play polo on a cargo bike:

Though arguably nobody should be allowed to play polo on a cargo bike. Cargo bikes are for stuff-portaging, flying, brewing coffee, and killing.