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.

Beasts of Burden: Long Bikes and Shiny Riders

In the year 2019, when we're all living in condos on the Moon and watching holographic three-dimensional television shows that you can smell, we will occasionally gather at soirées during which we will nibble on space canapés, sip intergalactic wine, and reflect fondly on the scorched and barren Earth we've all left behind. In particular, we will probably reminisce about the year 2010, which will go down in history for three reasons: it was the year that wacky tablet computer came out; it was the year that wacky Walmart "fixed-speed" bike came out; and it was the year that the Four Recumbent Riders of the Fixed-Gear Apocalypse descended from the heavens and laid waste to our home planet. Lo, their fragrant beards were made of stars and like unto the Milky Way, their helmet mirrors bore witness to the fate of humanity, and their hairy legs and SPD sandals did cause the ground to tremble when they did stop for granola and a "pee-pee break" in the midst of their ravagings.

Of course, none of this has happened yet, but the Dachshund of Time is already cowering in fear, as you can see in this Fixedgeargallery entry which was forwarded to me by a couple of readers:

Look deep into those terrified eyes and witness the horror of the End of Days:

Or maybe that's not the horror of the End of Days; maybe its just an intense canine craving for some Jerky Treats.

In any case, pending this whole apocalyptic mishigas (or meh-shigas) I have been living every day like it's my last, by which I mean I have been siting around watching TV and drinking heavily in order to quell a vague underlying sense of doom. I've also been assembling bicycles, and on the very same day I wrestled with the Mongoose Cachet and its unfortunate nuts which had been stripped more thoroughly than a bikini waxer depilates an exotic dancer's genitals, I also put together that Surly Big Dummy I mentioned last week. Here it is, all putted together and carrying a red thing:

(Can't wait to lose the lame Xtracycle and dork-railleurs and turn this baby into a fixed-gear!)

I should note that, while it took more time to assemble the Big Dummy, it was also a lot easier. This is because the stuff that was already on there was put there properly (including the pie plate, which I removed and burned), and the stuff that wasn't fit neatly together with the stuff that was. Even performing a bris on the uncut steer tube was easier than un-binding the Mongoose's dastardly headset. Anyway, here it is from the rear, seductively displaying its red thing like a "presenting" baboon:

I realize this is a diminutive load that a garden Bushwick variety undernourished "hipster" could probably transport in his capacious designer messenger bag, but in my defense I was merely getting a feel for the beast and taking it for a "shakedown ride." Rest assured I'm quite aware of the unwieldy payloads that smug Big Dummy owners (as well as owners of other load-bearing bikes) manage to haul. I even visited the webular site of the "Surly Big Dummy Society" and looked at the gallery. Just some of the crap these people are way too proud of themselves for carrying includes ladders:

Lawnmowers:

And other bikes:

Unfortunately, I don't own a ladder or a lawnmower, and while the carrying other bikes thing is intriguing it's also worth noting that putting a derailleur on your mountain bike is a good deal cheaper than purchasing a Big Dummy so you don't have to frantically spin your undergeared singlespeed to the trailhead. Then again, some people actually buy cars just to transport their singlespeeds to the trailhead, so I suppose all of this is relative, and I can certainly see how a multi-bike outing could be fun. In any case, in addition to the red thing I also carried some cheese:


At this point, the question isn't whether this bike is useful (it is) or difficult to ride (it isn't); it's how neatly a New York City apartment-dweller can integrate a nearly seven-foot-long bicycle into his or her life. As hard as we may be trying, this isn't Portland, and many of us live a good portion of our lives above street level. Furthermore, we don't always have the luxury of leaving our bicycles at street level, since that's where most of the crime takes place. I'll keep you posted, and if all else fails I can always unfurl the nylon flaps, form a crude lean-to, and live in the park:

Or, I could simply exchange it for another cargo bike with a shorter wheelbase:

At the End of Days, the Dachshund of Time shall meet the wise and all-knowing Pug of Perspicacity.

Speaking of large bicycles and preparing for the Apocalypse, a reader recently spotted this "Mad Max"-inspired chopper bicycle in Berlin, Germany:

I'm guessing the gentleman on the right is the new owner; having just purchased the bike at the German Walmart, he's now perusing the owner's manual. Or, another way to get ready for the Apocalypse is to pretend that the chain drive never even happened in the first place. Yet another reader emailed me this photo, which is what the world of cycling would look like today if the "p-far" had remained the dominant bicycle design:

Apparently, in his universe cycling bypassed the chain drive and went straight to DayGlo. He's even using clipless pedals--though they couldn't be very good, since they didn't cost $630:

I was alerted to this stunningly expensive pedal by a friend (no, the other friend--I have a grand total of two), and while $630 may seem like a lot of money to spend on a pedal, keep in mind that it also comes with one-time use cleat-mounting screws and a grease gun:

It also has a weight limit of 185lbs, which is yet another example of the Universal Rich Roadie Equipment Paradox: "If you can afford it, you are also too heavy to use it." As a corollary to that, if you lust after ridiculous equipment like this, you also wear white cycling shoes:

The above is a still from a Sidi commercial, in which Alberto Contador has substituted his trademark "fingerbang" with a "shoebang." You can see this commercial on the Sidi website, but I don't recommend you do that since it's buried and not directly linkable; furthermore, like all Italian websites the Sidi one is riddled with animation and bad music, and if you're at work it will cause you even more embarrassment than a porn site pop-up. However, also on the site is a commercial of which a number of readers have informed me, and one which I had not seen--until now. Yes, it's Filippo Pozzato naked, and he displays his unfinished back tattoo:

His "abs:"


And even his nipple:


He also uses a pair of Sidis to censor his genitals:

While you might think that Pozzato has been slathered in some sort of cooking oil, the fact is that he has actually had himself permanently clearcoated. By the way, the only thing roadies love more than white Sidi shoes is obsessing over cosmetic flaws in their equipment, waking up in night sweats, and penning desperate epistles to Lennard Zinn:

In fact, late last night I found myself doing the same thing:

Dear Lennard,

I have a Filippo Pozzato who has performed well since 2000. Now he has a small chip in his clearcoat, helped along no doubt when my helper monkey took a fancy to him. What's the best way to repair any damage?

--BSNYC

No response from Zinn yet, though I read on a forum somewhere that he's rebuildable and that I can use parts from my old Mario Cipollini to repair him.