Agents of Change: Of Freds and Men

The empowering effect the Internet has had on humanity is so profound and far-reaching as to be immeasurable. It has fomented revolution in the Middle East. Videos of doggie "three-ways" are merely a mouse click away. And now, as Klaus from Cycling Inquisition tells me, you can decide who's going to be on Team RadioShack's (pronounced "LAY-oh-pard Trek") Tour de France team:

Yes, that's right: Johan Bruyneel, a director who once reigned over a Tour-winning machine like a potentate, is now allowing you to pick, say, Robbie McEwen in the same cavalier manner in which you might "like" a doggie three-way video. Then, once the lineup is set, I imagine RadioShack will "drop" their new "app:"

With the RadioShack "U-Direct It!" app, you're in the driver's seat of the team car, and you get to control all the action from your smartphone or tablet:

[Note: "Attack" button not compatible with Levi Leipheimer.]

By the way, RadioShack aren't the only ones taking social networking to a new level at this year's Tour, and for the first time TV network Versus is offering viewers the opportunity to choose the commentating team. This could spell trouble for the venerable duo of Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen, for beating them in the polling at the moment is the unlikely pairing of actor Morgan Freeman and fictional 1980s newscasting puppet Gary Gnu:

This may seem a bit arbitrary, but word is they totally "killed it" last year when they co-hosted the Latin Grammys.

In other professional cycling news, controversial rider Riccardo "The Cobra" Riccò recently sneaked into a Fred ride to "help his friends achieve a better result:"

Apparently, he jumped out from behind a house like a silent movie villain, joined the ride, and then totally bogarted the showers at the finish:

Despite being told to leave the event by other participants, Riccò rode the whole course and then even had the nerve to use the shower facilities provided by the organisers at the finish in Voghera, near Milan.

By the way, Riccò is not the only controversial professional to "ride bandit" in this fashion. Back in 2008, the Rock Racing team actually jumped into a race in Brooklyn's Prospect Park when they were in town for the Harlem Skyscraper Classic. Of course, Rock Racing ultimately folded, but with the right look Riccò could have a long career ahead of him as an organized ride-crasher. I think he should get his hands on a fixie and dress like this, which would allow him to slither undetected into rides like the Five Boro Bike Tour:

The above image was forwarded to my by a reader, who cannily observed that the rider is clearly the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork's evil doppelgänger:

It's clear to me now that we stand on the cusp of an apocalyptic war between Good and Evil that could very well lay waste to the Universe, and that at this point there is only one man who can save us:

It is written in the Book of Fred that if the Lone Wolf should take the maillot jaune, mankind shall be saved. Of course, for that to happen, we need to get him a spot on the Team RadioShack Tour de France squad, but once he has his white-sneakered foot in the door winning the overall should be easy for him.

Speaking of empowerment and changing the future, from Athens, Greece I recently received a link to by far the most socially significant fixie "edit" ever "curated:"

The Prism: Riders on the Storm from localathensfilms on Vimeo.

If you're wondering what motivates these riders, according to the video their goal is two-fold:

1) "The creation of a community which will reflect the ideas of the group and will have a more solid political stance in relation to all that goes on around us;"

and

2) "The creation of conceptual actions that basically aim to reinforce collective imagination of the city's inhabitants towards a specific direction."

Wow. Meanwhile, this remains the state of affairs here in Canada's oversized bottom bracket:

I suppose you could also call that a conceptual action that reinforces collective imagination towards a specific direction. Granted, I'm not sure what that specific direction actually is, but I'm guessing it's somewhere towards the vicinity of the snack drawer.

And elsewhere in not-America, a reader informs me that some Stockholm politicians feel cyclists should be allowed to run red lights:

“As a cyclist you want to feel free and it is not as easy to go an extra two blocks as if you are in a car. There is a risk that people ignore the rules anyway, and then it is better to make it legal in an orderly fashion,” he said to daily Dagens Nyheter (DN).

Sounds perfectly sensible to me, but of course the big question is this: "So what about that teen boy who grabbed his principal's butt?"

Well, it's an unfortunate situation, and the principal reportedly feels "humiliated:"

She doesn't look all that humiliated to me, but then again Swedes can be difficult to read.

Lastly, from our nation's capital, a reader has sent me this exquisite example of a disembodied arm:

I just wish I could figure out how he's making that bike stand up without a kickstand.

It must be Photoshopped.

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.

BNYCS Friady Fun Quiz!

Yesterday afternoon, I set out astride my trusty Scattante to complete some neighborhood errands. Stopping at the hardware store, I quickly locked my bicycle to one of those cages the city puts around the trees so they don't escape. Then, after completing my brief transaction (I'm finally going "full hipster" so I bought 50 key blanks to hang from my waist) I stepped back outside and found this:

Yes, despite the fact the rest of the tree prison was empty, someone had decided to tether their beagles to it right in front of my Scattante. Moreover, as you can see, they passed the leash through the frame:

By the way, you may notice that the beasts appear to be cowering in terror:

As far as I can tell, there are two likely reasons for this:

1) My bicycle had been standing upright when I left it, so the dogs were probably very frightened by the noise when either they or their owner knocked it over;

or;

2) They are simply reacting as anyone might in the presence of a filthy and haphazardly "curated" Scattante.

I was reluctant to untie a pair of strange dogs lest they immediately take off in pursuit of some kind of rodent, so I scanned the area for the owner, by which I mean anybody who looked like this:

Sure, pretty much everybody in Williamsburg fits this description now thanks to the "Americana backwoods revival" movement, but thus far my part of Brooklyn has been spared. However, I could find no hillbillies in the immediate vicinity, and therefore I was forced to untie the canines myself. Sure enough, as soon as I did they assumed it was time for "walkies," which meant I had to restrain them in order to re-tie them, and anybody who's ever had to subject a dog to "walkus interruptus" knows how difficult this can be.

I'm still wondering why anybody would park their dogs in such a manner, since it seems only marginally smarter than tying them to a car bumper. I suppose it could be that the dog owner wanted my bicycle and the beagles were "treeing" it like a raccoon, but frankly I find the notion that anybody would want my Scattante far too unrealistic to contemplate. Therefore, as of now I'm working on a theory involving my pink Knog lock's resemblance to a giant dog erection, though I haven't gotten much further than that.

Speaking of puzzling scenarios, I'm pleased to present you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right you're right, and if you're wrong you'll see a psychedelic Fred freakout.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and may your travels be unencumbered by beagles.

--Wildcat Rock Machine

(Erik K)

1) French police recently stopped Alberto Contador for:

--Exceeding the speed limit while descending the Col du Galibier

--Riding a bicycle without lights on it

--Vandalizing a Vélib' station
--Fingerbanging within 500 meters of a school or place of worship

2) In the pro peloton, the hot new t-shirt design is:

--Frolicking dolphins

--Prancing unicorns

--Knife-wielding koalas
--Humping tigers





3) Touchy, touchy! Apparently Portlanders can't handle a little:

--Good-natured ribbing
--Time away from their bicycles
--Competition from Minneapolis
--Urine in their drinking water

4) The "nose to tail movement" refers to the proper method for petting a cat.

--True
--False

5) Fill in the blank: "Live ______"

--Fierce

--Ferocious

--Truculent
--Shirtless

6) Tandems are to Fundies as:

--Fixies are to thongs
--Pennyfarthings are to bloomers
--Recumbents are to hernia trusses
--All of the above

(Oh, I get it.)

7) If you get doored, always be sure to:

--Get the driver's information
--Report the incident to the police
--Find a witness
--Ask the doorer for a date

***Special Fred-Themed Bonus Question***

This setup is known as the "Fred's Wet Dream."

--True
--False

Urban Exploration: I Once Was Found But Now I'm Found

(Okay, I removed the album cover.)

In yesterday's post, I mentioned a Kickstarter pitch involving a bicycle brake light. While I may have made light of this pitch, I assure you that I take the matter of bicycle illumination very seriously. Apparently, so do the French police, because they recently busted Giro d'Italia winner and indiscriminate meat eater Alberto Contador for training without lights on his bike:

Clearly French authorities have been taking their cues from the NYPD, though they're also woefully behind, since while they're still pestering cyclists the NYPD has moved on to more serious matters like arresting people for not playing chess:

Anyway, despite--or perhaps because of--the fact that he has won their eponymous tour three times, the police would not allow Contador to continue riding. Instead, he was forced to train in the French manner by giving up and putting his bike in the car. I'm sure Contador was not pleased, but to his credit he still managed to flash a desultory "fingerbang" before climbing inside:

Presumably Contador will be better prepared in the future, because bicycle blinky light concern Knog have just announced that they will make their first foray into Pro Tour sponsorship by providing him with a fingerbang-compatible "hipster cyst:"

The above model in the limited edition Giro d'Italia maglia rosa colorway will be available for only $175, though if you're handy you can also retrofit an ordinary pink "hipster cyst" to your own fingerbang by, well, placing it on your index finger.

Speaking of hipsters, not since the Europeans came to the Americas has a group of people proved so profoundly adept at "discovering" places that were already inhabited. Since arriving in Williamsburg way back in the 1990s, these bold urban pioneers have bravely explored the city astride fixed-gear bicycles festooned with "hipster cysts," and over the years they've discovered and settled exciting new neighborhoods that nobody knew existed except for everybody else.

In turn, these expeditions provide essential narratives for periodicals such as the New York Times, whose greatest journalistic strength is reporting on the unlikely corners of the city in which douchedom manages to take root. The latest installment in these Gentrification Chronicles is this article about how hipsters have found the Rockaways:

If you've read my book (and no, you cannot have your money back), you know I have a special connection to and affection for this peninsula. As a child, I rode her streets on my Tuff Wheel IIs; I thrilled to the undulations of the roller coaster at Playland; I pulled killy fish from her waters in a bottle baited with bread; and I pulled her tenacious ticks from my unmentionables.

For this reason, I had mixed feelings when I read this article. On one hand, I was pleased that people are finding what really is a beautiful place that in some places could stand to be beautified further by newcomers; on the other, I was horrified that it could be becoming "the new Bedford Avenue:"

Arriving by single-gear bicycle, Zipcar and the occasional skateboard, they’ve turned the once- neglected beach community into an anti-Hamptons, where polo games and Champagne galas have been replaced by bungalow barbecues and piña coladas at old Irish pubs. “The boardwalk is the new Bedford Avenue,” said Mr. Kaye, 34, referring to the cafe-clogged commercial spine of Williamsburg.

I can't imagine I'm alone in finding the prospect of an ironic Hamptons rather daunting. In particular, the big draw for hipsters seems to be Fort Tilden, a beach once touted in an Outlier press release as being "secret" and "accessible only by bike." Well, apparently the secret that was never a secret is now out, and hipsters are now flocking there so they don't have to cope with the sickening sight of children:

“I didn’t see one kid,” said Chris Martin, 27, a skateboarder and photographer from Williamsburg, who car-pooled to Fort Tilden on Memorial Day. “It was awesome.”

Take note Chris Martin, 27 year-old skateboarder from Williamsburg: when you look around and you don't see a kid, the kid is you.

Of course, no article about an up-and-coming gentrification hotspot would be complete without the dreaded "A" word:

Instead of freezer-burned hot dogs, Mr. Selig has created a kind of Brooklyn Flea by the sea, recruiting artisanal-minded vendors that send chowhound devotees into a lather.

Or without describing something totally mundane as a "movement:"

A unique scene has also emerged at Rippers, the boardwalk burger place near 86th Street that is a joint venture between Roberta’s and the Meat Hook, a butcher shop in Williamsburg born out of the nose-to-tail movement.

You may think "nose-to-tail movement" is simply a set of instructions for how to pet a cat (they don't like it when you pet them with the tail-to-nose movement), but you'd be wrong. Actually, the "nose-to-tail movement" is pretentious for eating a whole animal:

I've noticed a recent culinary trend in my Brooklyn community where restaurants are choosing to purchase entire animals raised naturally on nearby farms, butcher in house, and use most of their parts in the establishment's cuisine, leaving little animal to waste.

In other words, the "nose-to-tail movement" is a self-importantly nü-Brooklyn version of the "Clean Plate Club."

By the way, in other New York Times hipster news, Rockaway is also hotbed for bike polo:


Sure, the article is from 1902, but I have a feeling it may be poised for a comeback.

In any case, at the very least the people of Red Hook, Brooklyn can relax, since it looks like the New York Times has found another unique and transit-starved waterfront neighborhood to entertain itself with--at least until the summer's over. Also, if the hipsterization of the Rockaways continues, we should be in store for some exciting bike lane drama:

Just make sure your "single gear bicycle" and/or beach cruiser is equipped with a "Rockaway handgrip," as in this photograph sent to me by a reader:


Here's a closer look:

Actually, the reader spotted the bike in Salt Lake City, but it's a catchy name nevertheless.

Lastly, when I receive an email from a reader with the subject line "'fully loaded' touring bike pr0n," you can bet I'm all over it like hipsters on a childless beach:

"Fully Loaded" is clearly the "Barely Legal" of the beard-and-pannier set.

Living Fierce: Unleashing your Personal Best

As much as I enjoyed my visit to Gothenburg, there is nothing quite as comforting as familiarity. I take solace in the predictable, and my life here in Uh-merica is just that. For example, I know that when I wake up in the morning, the sun will rise. I also know that this sun will shine on monkey feces, since my helper monkey, Vito, likes to relieve himself on my bedspread in the middle of the night. Mostly, though, I know that people in Portland, OR will continue to love beer and bikes, which is why this article on BikePortland should come as no surprise whatsoever:

Yes, it's well-known that putting a bunch of frames in any Portland establishment can double business overnight. This is not limited to bars, either. Even the Multnomah County Health Department is embracing the "put a bike on it" approach. Did you know that, because of low screening rates, less than 40% of colorectal cancers are found early? Well, by installing bike-themed colonoscopy stations all over the city they expect Portlanders will flock to have their colons examined with endoscopic tools fabricated by the city's top framebuilders. These stations will be staffed by United Bicycle Institute student volunteers:

(A UBI student inspects a patient's "bottom bracket" for polyps.)

When it comes to cancer, early (and artisanal) detection is they key to prevention.

Also, apparently Portlanders can't even get through a pint of organic beer or an order of organic french fries without being tempted to perform bike maintenance, which is why the BikeBar has "loaner tools:"

"Hold that thought--I really should service my hub bearings. Can you watch my organic seven-grain stout?"

But clearly the most important amenities are the "'Plug Out' exer-cycles that you can spin and generate electricity while you wait for your order." This is a stroke of genius on the part of the owners, since it simultaneously preys on Portlanders' compulsion to pedal bicycles at all times as well as their borderline pathological need to feel good about themselves, thereby ensuring that the establishment never has to pay a single utility bill. Now that's how you harness the power of smugness.

Meanwhile, when it comes to bicycle-themed entrepreneurship we New Yorkers are woefully behind. However, there is the odd flicker of brilliance, such as this Kickstarter pitch from a Brooklyn man for a bicycle "break" light:


Unfortunately, there are a few problems with this device. For one thing, as far as I can tell, the light only works when you use your brake, which means you're still cloaked in darkness in a non-braking situation. This dovetails into the second problem, which is that nobody uses brakes anymore anyway. If he invented some sort of tire that shoots sparks when you skid then perhaps he'd be on to something. As a bonus, such a tire would open the door for brakeless riders to immolate themselves should they attempt to skid in the vicinity of a fuel spill.

Still, I was inspired by his somewhat disjointed story about how he was inspired to invent the brake light, which is basically that he got into an altercation with a cyclist after nearly running the cyclist over. This reminds me of the Festivus origin story in its sheer negativity. Also, it should go without saying that the kid in the tie-dye is awesome:


His thumbs don't go down for two and a half minutes:


His visage is also nothing short of mezmerizing:

In fact, I haven't been so entranced since my encounter with the Nonplussed Journalist:


His gaze was so persuasive that, despite my initial skepticism, I'd somehow ended up pledging $20,000:

We also now have the exact same haircut, though for the life of me I can't remember going to the barber.

Speaking of brakelessness, a reader recently forwarded me this video of a "midnite crit" in our notion's carpital:

DC Midnite Crit from In The Crosshairs on Vimeo.

I'm always excited to watch a Nü-Fred on-the-bike slapfight, and I knew the competition was going to be fierce when I saw how much trouble some of the participants have with putting on their helmets:


While others forego helmets altogether and opt for the time-honored "windblown butt-cut" look:


The riders tear through corners at a moderate clip, making sure not to use their drops lest they inadvertently pick up speed:


As for the course, "It's about a 10-mile, 10-lap course...crit style, no one gets dropped:"

This explanation puzzled me for two reasons. Firstly, since when does "crit-style" mean no one gets dropped? I can assure you that people do get dropped in crits, and in fact I've been dropped in every single crit I've ever entered. Secondly, at almost no point in the video are any two riders anywhere near each other, which technically means that everybody got dropped--except for the winner, of course. Really, this is less a "crit" than it is a "hipster ITT."

Speaking of the winner, he gets a trophy, and then scowls like a man who knows just how badass it is to beat a bunch of people who don't know how to put on their helmets:

Like tying your own shoes or doing your own laundry, winning trophies is impressive when you're a young child but becomes less so with each passing year. However, in the hipster community all of these feats are sources of great pride until you're well into your 30s. In fact, some say winning a trophy in no-drop crit is the first step to becoming a GNC fixie model, as forwarded to me by a fellow Tweeterer:


Fixie crits may be the new triathlon.