BSNYC Product Retrospective: Scattante Empire State Courier and Sundries

("A Very Tarcky Christmas," spotted by Helen in Aspen, CO)

Further to yesterday's post, in which I mentioned Mario Cipollini's all-consuming fear of an increasingly androgynous professional peloton, one commenter has offered a compelling view of the future based on the shocking evidence that Cipollini has brought to light:

Anonymous said...

In 500 years time the genderway indifferent Shepollini will not so much be remembered as an ancient pro cyclist, but instead will be revered by the predominate sub species (Homo sapien shemaleien) as the Adam and Eve of their kind. Shepollini will also be regarded by history as the founding fathermother of the distant futures most popular sport: Cyclocrossdressing. Some historians will contend that the practice of cross dressing on bicycles began before the emergence of the Shepollini bloodline during the single speed mountain bike racing era, otherwise known by future academia as "The Second Dark Age" due to the stagnated and regressed state of cycling at this time, but popular mythology will attest otherwise.
When some smug person tells you that cycling is the transport of the future, don't listen. It will in fact be the tranny sport of the future. And I should mention, Shepollini says that wet chain lube is categorically better that dry chain lube, for hair styling. ce

December 14, 2010 7:31 AM

I have very little reason to doubt that pretty much all of this will ultimately come to pass, and if in 500 years "the genderway indifferent Shepollini" is in fact not lauded as the founding fathermother of not only a new cycling discipline but also a completely new form of humanity blessed with two sets of genitals, I will eat a Rapha hat.

(Founding Fathermother Mario Cipollini fertilizes a new Earth with his hair drippings.)

Speaking of intensely spiritual creation myths, the holidays are now upon us. This means people everywhere are begrudgingly exchanging gifts they can't afford, motivated entirely by the socially-imposed sense of responsibility that drives our retail economy. In fact, even I have just received a gift, which was packed in actual marshmallows:

This is certainly the most stomach-turning packing job I've ever seen (and that includes the time at an old job when someone accidentally mailed us his own trash), and had it spent another day at my mailbox the rats almost certainly would have gotten to it and I'd be posting this from the bubonic plague ward at Beth Israel Medical Center. (This is the only place left in town where you can still get a decent bloodletting.)

The package, as it turns out, was from online Fred supply dispensary Performance, and it contained the items you see below:

As well as a "LiveWrong" bracelet, which I immediately placed on my Edgar Allan Poe bobblehead:

(Enter discount code "NEVERMORE" for big, big savings on gothic poetry and half-shorts.)

I was especially pleased to receive the lights, which are USB rechargeable. I've already been using similar lights from "hipster cyst" pioneers Knog, and I don't mind saying that I highly recommend USB rechargeable lights from the manufacturer of your choice. Not only do they liberate you from the hated disposable battery, but they also give you an excuse to spend more time on the Internet while they charge, which means that browsing online pornography for hours on end has finally been transformed into an act of bicycle safety.

Also, Performance included this. I have no idea what it is, but I'm assuming it's a prototype for a new Forté-branded singlespeed conversion kit that's even more crappy than the one they already offer:

Either that, or it's a pizza cutter with ceramic bearings.

Most significantly, though, Performance packed a chain rivet plier and lockring tool to celebrate the second anniversary of my Scattante Empire State Courier--an occasion I had forgotten, and of which they reminded me when I emailed them in the spirit of the season to tell them to never, ever send me a box full of fucking marshmallows again.

It's amazing to think that when, way back in September of 2008, Performance "dropped" its line of "urban" fixed-gear-ready Scattante singlespeeds and, in the process, stole material from my blog for their marketing copy, the cycling world reeled with disbelief. "This is the end!," cried the "bike culture." "Performance selling 'fixies' and quoting some blogger whose 15 minutes ended months ago in order to do it? Surely, the shark has been jumped!" Little did we all know what would follow: the closing of the fixed-gear "culture;" the Urban Outfitters bike; the Walmart bike. (By the way, if you're wondering what happened to my ironic intern, the short version is that I told him he could keep the Walmart bike pending his analysis of it and I never heard from him again, which means he either decided not to follow through with his review, or else he's met with some sort of catastrophe. Either way, he can kiss that BSNYC letter of recommendation goodbye.) In retrospect, Performance's take on the trend seems positively sincere and "OG" in comparison.

In any case, all of this made me pine for those bygone days of innocence, and to think fondly back to that day two years ago when I first opened that box from Performance and thought to myself, "Those dorks have a lot of nerve." I also thought it might be edifying to look at that Empire State Courier once again, and to see what's become of it today. Here's what it looked like in 2008, totally "stock" apart from the "hipster cyst" outbreak:

And here's what it looks like today:


Here's the view from the front:


And here's a disembodied hand:

As you can see, a mere two years in New York can make something look quite defeated and haggard, which goes a long way towards explaining the shattered appearance of all those recent Bard graduates in Williamsburg. For purposes of fit and comfort, I have replaced a number of components with stuff I had lying around--except for the fork, which I was forced to replace after encountering an obstacle in the bike lane and hurtling headlong into the back of a Bud Light truck. The bicycle also had both front and rear brakes until my cockpit was stolen some time ago, after which I only bothered to replace one, which is generally sufficient as the bicycle is fixed of gear. (The freewheel that came with the bike made a displeasing rumbling sound.) Speaking of theft, notice that in New York we actually have to chain our saddles to our bikes, which should give you a good idea of the sorry manner in which we're forced to live our lives. Also, here's what happens to a bike after repeated locking with a heavy chain:


This is a good thing, because it acts as camouflage--as you can see the bike begins to blend into the background.

If you're wondering why to this day so many "hipsters" and practitioners of "cycle chic" in New York seem to have such pristine bicycles, it's either because they don't really ride them very much, or because they've only had them for a few weeks and they haven't been stolen yet.

One development of note between the inception of the Empire State Courier and our present day is the proliferation of Velcro foot retention straps, arguably inspired by PowerGrips, pioneered in their current form by companies like Hold Fast, and fueled by the continuing growth of "fixed-gear freestyling," whose practitioners still refuse to simply ride BMX bikes even as their bicycles grow increasingly more BMX-like by the day. While most most fixed-gear freestyle by-products are mostly undesirable (endless videos of BMX-inspired tricks performed awkwardly), I thought that new forms of foot retention might be the exception, and so awhile back I bought a pair:

I've been using these on my Scattante for a little over a year now, and while I haven't exactly been thrilled with them they're also not so bad that I've bothered to take them off. On the plus side, they work well with smooth-soled, low-profile shoes such as sneakers when the weather is dry. On the negative side, they don't really accommodate the wider lug-soled winter shoes I prefer to wear when it's really crappy out, which was why I wanted to try them in the first place. Plus, they don't work particularly well in the rain, when even though they're synthetic they seem to get soggy and droopy which makes it hard to slide your foot in (though maybe that's just because my shoes get soggy, or because I'm generally a soggy and droopy person). In fairness to Hold Fast, they've changed the design somewhat since I've bought these so maybe they're better now, and I don't doubt that for fixed-gear freestyling they're the fixie-riding bee's blown knees, but I'm sorry to report that based on the ones I have they're not quite the "use them with every shoe you own" solution I'd hoped they'd be.

Anyway, I already had a gigantic USB rechargeable "hipster cyst" growing on the ironic crabon handlebars of my Scattante:

So I put the PerfAxiom lights on my enormous smugness flotilla:

As for which brand of light is brighter, I cannot say, since my method of determining whether or not a light is bright enough is to simply turn it on and look at it, and if doing so makes me wince in pain and see spots for the next 20 minutes then in my estimation it is bright enough. I'm happy to report that both the Knog and the PerfAxiom passed this test, and that lawsuits against both companies are pending. I also acknowledge that I am something of a "light whore" and would never turn away a free one. After all, lights are like condoms and tampons--necessities that we really shouldn't have to pay for:

Much less necessary is a headset spacer with an integrated bottle opener, but as a semi-professional bike blogger I need this to infiltrate "bike culture" events since most of them these days have a three bottle opener minimum:

(After 11 months I have yet to open a single bottle with this apparatus.)

In any case, while I enjoy the WiseCracker for its novelty value, I can't help thinking that if "bike culture" would promote lights half as much as it promotes bottle openers, then the Great Hipster Silk Route would not be thronged with totally invisible cyclists as it is now. (Though admittedly the "muffin tops" of the paler ones are eerily iridescent.)

And finally, here's the view of the Scattante Empire State Courier that the "Cat 6" racers get before they attack me and "drop" me:

Maybe I should cut back on the marshmallows.

BSNYC Product Review: Electra Ticino 8D

As many of you are probably aware by now, former President of the United States and avid mountain bike enthusiast George W. Bush has recently gone "29er:"

If only Bush had adopted larger wheels back when he was in office, he totally would have cleared that gnarly second term, and he might even have successfully made it through that highly technical "Iraq" section. (As Gary Fisher will tell you, it's all about the "angle of attack.") Incidentally, the bicycle Bush is about to drape those baggy shorts over is a Niner, and you may remember Chris Sugai of Niner (the guy who isn't George Bush or the other guy in the helmet) as the star of my favorite product-testing video of all time:



Few people know that Sugai was actually a member of Bush's cabinet, and in that capacity was responsible for much of our government's policy during his tenure. Trouble with other countries? Hit them with a hammer! Economy is sluggish? Hit it with a hammer! Hammer-wielding maniac on the loose? Hit him with a hammer! He also engaged Dick Cheney to help test some of those early Niner crabon fork prototypes, though the infamous "shotgun test" was not only unsuccessful but also fatal and Niner quickly removed it from YouTube. (A bit of advice: when Cheney asks, "Hey, can you hold this fork for a second?," don't agree.)

Still, you've got to admire a company willing to literally pound the crap out of its products, and I only wish Gerard Vroomen of Cervelo would do the same instead of producing fashion shows:



Amazingly, despite this display, the full pro team kit has yet to take off as casual wear.

Speaking of getting new bikes and testing things, I recently received a new "test-cycle" in the form of an Electra Ticino 8D:

Since it comes from a "collection" and is represented by a picture of a guy wearing a wool jersey and the sort of hat worn by people who are way too into "craft ales," I knew the Ticino was going to be something special (and by "special" I mean "pretentious"). Incidentally, Electra are well-known for their "Townie" bicycles, which feature that insanely relaxed "flat foot technology" geometry and are ideal for canine "portaging" (or, if you're not from Portland, "schlepping"):

(Woman on Townie schleps dog in Prospect Park, Brooklyn)

Electra also sells those Amsterdam quasi-Dutch bikes, one of which I actually reviewed last year:

(Wasn't I pretty back then?)

The Ticino, however, is something different. Here's how Electra's copy explains it:

Whether you ride every day or go for long journeys on the weekend, the Ticino will handle it in comfort and style. Named for an Italian-influenced area of Switzerland, Ticino's design aesthetic, craftsmanship and frame integrity are inspired by the vintage Randonneur-type bikes once ridden throughout the region. Stylistically, Ticino picks up where bike builders of the '40s and '50s left off with its retro-inspired hubs*, cranksets, chainrings, tourist handlebars, forks, pedals and rims. But this thing is far from a relic. When it coms to performance, the Ticino is decked out with the latest custom Electra components and will hold its own against other sporty rides with fast-rolling 700c wheels, a lightweight frame and a host of drivetrains from single-to 20-speed. All in all, the Ticino is a fine-tuned, smooth-gliding machine that offers a comfort level no longer found in today's twitchy frames. Take your time to study the unique details of each model.

*on Ticino 18D, 20D and LUX models

In other words, it's a mass market version of all those North American Handmade Bicycle Show "Artisan Porteurs" that people who wear wool cycling caps love to ogle, but for people who think "lug" is a synonym for "schlep," Rivendell is where Archie and the gang lived, and who don't know Velo Orange from a Jaffa orange.

Anyway, I got the 8D, which doesn't have the "retro-inspired hubs" and which was fine with me because I couldn't care less what my hubs look like. Here's the way the bike looked when I pulled it out of the box:

And here's how it looked after I assembled it, removed the reflectors, and performed my customary and elaborate pie plate-burning ceremony:


Here's the view other cyclists will have when you're "salmoning" towards them. ("Salmon" love Electras like "Freds" love Treks):

Here's the view other riders will have when you're dropping them--which, let's be honest, isn't going to happen:

And here's the way the Electra Ticino looks when it's waiting to go to the bathroom:

It needs to go so bad its spokes went from 3-cross to 4-cross.

As I mentioned, my Ticino didn't come with the "retro-inspired hubs," but it did come with other "custom Electra components," such as the TA-like (or T-Ain't) cranks:

Rims with a vintage-like Mavic-esque pre-exploding wheel era-inspired sticker:


A quill stem with a little threaded cap to cover the stem bolt:


And faux-leather grips with bar-end brake levers:

Together with the vaguely Brooks-like saddle, skinwall tires, and "hammered" (or hammered look) fenders, the bike will do doubt infuriate Randonnerds, retrogrouches, and the sorts of people who bedeck their bicycles with an airport carousel's worth of canvas luggage, but will simply look really nice to people who don't know what any of that means or who don't really care. By the way, here's the OBBS (or Obligatory Bottom Bracket Shot):

While not "beefy" by James Huangian standards, you may note that the bike uses a single chainring sandwiched by a couple of chainring guards, and that it also includes vibration dampeners on the fenders. Also, the frame is aluminum, which will doubtless have rendered any remaining retrogrouches who have not long since defected to Classic Rendezvous apoplectic.

I, however, am not troubled by the facsimile aspect of the bicycle, and while the aesthetic is a little "precious" for me my first impression was that it's a very nice-looking bike. I also found it very comfortable, thought it handled well, was sensibly geared, and was even light enough for the average "wuss" to carry up and down a few flights of stairs.

But to really test it properly I had to take it "out on the town" in the manner of a typical non-bike dork simply looking to ride a comfortable bicycle from one place to another. Fortunately, fatherhood has already rid me of the extraneous portions of my dignity, and I no longer give much thought to my attire or equipment when mounting a bicycle. So, clad in a pair of homemade "shants," flip-flops, and (my only concession to foppery) a canvas bag from Rivendell, I grabbed the Ticino and set out looking like the miserable aftermath of a collision between "cycle chic" and Mugatu's "Derelicte."

My first thought was that this was a kinder and gentler sort of bicycle than I typically ride, and that it was well-suited for the kinder and gentler urban cycling offered by New York City's new lime green protected bike lanes, onto which I soon steered the Ticino:

Incidentally, you may notice that, way in the distance, there is a woman riding a mountain bike on the sidewalk. Apparently, she was too afraid to ride in the street, yet moments before I took this picture she had ridden right through that intersection against the light and was nearly hit by a car. She had a look of terror on her face the entire time, and it was as if some otherwordly force was compelling her towards death and she was powerless to resist. "Must stop at light...can't stop at light." Here she is about to do it again:

This time she actually manages to cross the intersection diagonally, maximizing her exposure time to oncoming traffic:

Anyway, soon I was in Prospect Park, where I joined my upright-riding brethren:

Note the "epic" quill stem on this Klein:

He has more headset spacers than most people have steer tube.

Shortly afterwards, I passed an excited gentleman who regarded me wide-eyed and shouted, "Is that a Schwinn?" At first I was frightened, thinking it was an enraged Grant Petersen come to tackle me from the Ticino and give it the "hammer test." I soon realized it wasn't, though, and as I passed I answered "No." Crestfallen, he reacted as though I had just called his mother a Schwinn. "Not a Schwinn!?!," he exclaimed. However, I did not have time to explain to him that it was not a Schwinn and was in fact a mass-produced facsimile of the "artisanal" retro-inspired bicycles so popular with the "bike culture" right now, and continued on.

Of course, navigating Prospect Park is one thing; hanging with the "hipsters" of Williamsburg on its eponymous bridge is quite another, and it was with trepidation that I approached its purple girders:

Desperately, I clawed my way up to the trio of "hipsters" ahead of me:


Amazingly, I caught them without breaking my flip-flops:


Arriving in Manhattan, I decided I liked the bike. It was as comfortable as a bike needs to be, but it was in no way sluggish. I did, however, ride cautiously, and when I encountered a Mercedes with a vanity plate reading "Cupper" I kept a safe distance:

I did not relish a run-in with the "cupper," having no idea what it was intended to cup.

By the way, so bike friendly has New York City become that in addition to bike lanes we now have designated folding bike unfurling areas:


However, stoplight match sprints continue unabated:

As does shoaling, and on my way back to Brooklyn I was shoaled repeatedly and violently by a "Beautiful Godzilla" in the 2nd Avenue bike lane:

In any case, as everyday transportation the Ticino performs very well, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't thoroughly enjoyed my time on it--though I'd also be lying if I said I didn't find it a little "precious." (Then again, I am a considerable and dedicated schlub.) It's very comfortable, it has fenders, it's stable yet reasonably quick, and you can carry it up steps. It is not exactly cheap, however, and it retails for about $800--though some dupes actually pay close to that for Flying Pigeons, so I suppose price is relative. Plus, it comes with most of what you'd need apart from a rack. To some extent I suppose it is an affront to the more rarefied corners of cycling, but at the same time it's also a coup for accessibility, and it's nothing if not enticing. And it makes way more sense than a Klein with a flagpole for a quill stem.

BSNYC Product Review: Walmart's Mongoose Cachet "Fixed-Speed" Bicycle

In New York City during springtime, the the only thing blooming more colorfully than the flowers are the cyclists. Fair weather, hormones and soaring pollen levels conspire to send people into an excitable state, and to travel the streets during this time is to bear witness to an exuberant display of bicycles, clothing, and riding styles. Consider this fetching pink blossom:

In New York City, where the streets are often congested, narrow bars can help you make your way through traffic jams. However, there is a point at which bars become too narrow, and that is when they are narrower than you. So, unless the owner of this bicycle is actually hiding behind that pole (or unless this is a remote control bicycle and it often travels riderless), then these bars are pointless and the rider may as well dispense with them altogether. Sure, on a certain level it's unfair to judge, since what works for one rider may not work for another, but I maintain that when your bars are narrower than your "Q-factor" you need to reevaluate your setup. The only legitimate reason for these bars that I can come up with this that the Fixedgeargallery has gotten overcrowded and is switching to an ultra-narrow photo format (as in the photo above), and so this will soon be the only way to get your bike on there.

Similarly puzzling is springtime intersection behavior, when "shoaling" and "circling" grow rampant. "Circling" occurs when a rider simply rides around in circles at an intersection, and while it's usually tentative, it can also be aggressive. Here's one rider I witnessed yesterday who was actually circling the crosswalk at high speeds and while in the drops:

Notice that the rider (who may or may not be actor Giovanni Ribisi) has paused briefly to tug anxiously at the sleeve of his stripey "hoodie" and peer menacingly at me through his amber "Bar Mitzvah sunglasses:"

A fraction of a second later, though, he was off like a bullet made of turquoise:

Note the look of intense concentration and the fact that the force of his acceleration has caused his amber glasses to slip down his nose:

I don't know what race he was participating in, but whatever it was I'm sure he won.

But spring is not only about demonstrative riding; it's also a time in which those who do not have bicycles at all contemplate purchasing one. Inevitably, at least some of these prospective riders will be drawn to the purported simplicity, multiple "colorways," and supposed "cool factor" of the fixed-gear bicycle. Furthermore, as we all know, the fixed-gear bicycle (or at least the look of the 21st century "urban" fixed-gear bicycle) has officially attained complete pop-cultural absorption with the advent of the $150 Mongoose Cachet "fixed-speed" bicycle, now available at Walmart.

As I mentioned in a prior post, I was happy to learn about the Cachet, since I believe anything that makes it more difficult for people to convince themselves that they are "special" or "cool" is a good thing. (Indeed, a reader informs me that, so complete is the mainstreamification of the fixed-gear aesthetic, even Gawker is commenting on it.) Additionally, I believe that accessibility (both in terms of widespread availability and low price) is also a good thing, and that these sorts of bicycles should not be the exclusive domain of monied 20- and 30-somethings with access to trendy boutiques. Ultimately, my sincere hope upon learning about it was that the Cachet would help wrest the whole "fixie" thing from the grip of the "hipsters" and place it in the hands of America's teenagers where it belongs. However, to put it simply, all of this egalitarianism is no good if the bike is a total piece of crap. So I filled out the necessary paperwork and ordered a Cachet from the Walmart website to see what it is that these prospective cyclists will be getting.

The bike arrived five days later. Here it is, the end of your precious "culture" packed neatly in a box:

(The "Pandora's Box" of the fixed-gear "culture.")

Eagerly, I opened it, and moments later the Mongoose out of the box and the clichéed cat was out of the bag:

(Packing material or free top-tube pad? Depends on how you look at it.)

I should mention at this point that when I ordered the bike the website did not give me the option of selecting a size, so I can only assume Walmart only offers one. Additionally, I could find no information on the site as to what size that single size actually was (nor could I find the Cachet on the Mongoose website), and the only dimensions seemed to refer to the size of the box. Measuring the bike, I determined that it was what most manufacturers would probably call a 55cm or perhaps a "medium"--which, as it happens, fits me fine.

But enough of all this technical "sizing" jargon. I know what you're really wondering at this point, and the answer is, "Yes, it does have an integrated chainguard tab:"

("All You Haters Cuff My Pants.")

Next, like a child on Christmas morning, I began to liberate the Cachet from its packing materials. (Not an excited child, mind you; more like a really depressed child who suspects his alcoholic parents may have given him a single used sneaker again this year.) Once it was free, the first thing I noticed was that the headset cups had been pressed in at a decidedly jaunty angle (either that or the headtube was misshapen), both top:

And bottom:

The next thing I noticed was that the headset was so tight that I could barely move the fork. Clearly, this was unrideable, and I would have to loosen the lock nut and adjust it. Using the appropriate tool, I endeavored to do so, but it was on so tight that the nut actually started to round off before I eventually managed to free it:


Note the abundant metal shavings:

Once I had disassembled the headset, I considered removing and reinstalling the cups. However, I was worried that the headtube or the cups might not survive, and so instead I simply adjusted the headset and reassembled it. It didn't look pretty, but the fork turned fine.

Now that fork could move, it was ready for a front wheel:

The stamped fork dropouts were also a bit crooked, but I was able to install the wheel. Incidentally, you may have also noticed by now that the Cachet features 48-spoke wheels, front and rear. Clearly Walmart is being cautious here, and they are also reaffirming international stereotypes about obese American "big-box store" customers in the process. Still, too many spokes is always better than too few, and the wheels were adequately true.

Next, I removed and reinstalled the rear wheel. (The chain was so highly tensioned I could have fired an arrow from it.) Note the name-brand freewheel:

Everybody knows "Long Yih Industry" is the White Industries of China.

Incidentally, many people have correctly speculated that the term "fixed-speed" is Walmart-ese for "singlespeed." Others (like Gawker) have also incorrectly pointed out that Walmart is selling fixed-gear bicycles. Technically, they are not, although the Quando rear hub is fixed-gear-ready:

The Fixed-Gear Apocalypse is indeed upon us. When the 666th person installs a fixed cog on his or her Cachet, the world as we know it will come to an end, serial retrogrouch and uber-curmudgeon Jobst Brandt will rise from his grave (even though he's currently alive and well), and we will all meet our fates at the mesh cycling gloved hands of the Four Recumbent Riders of the Apocalypse.

Oh, and if that's not apocalyptic enough for you, with 113mm rear spacing I'm pretty sure the Mongoose Cachet is "NJS:"

Then again, my tape measure may just be a "POS." Either way, though, we're all doomed, which is probably why Walmart doesn't want you to ride your Mongoose Cachet at night:


With the cockpit and wheels both able to turn freely, I shifted my attention to the "calipur" brakes, which were relatively flimsy-looking single-pivot models. The front brake in particular was quite loose and wiggled in the fork, making it impossible to center. So I went to tighten the fixing nut:

As I continued to turn it, I realized nothing was happening. Figuring it must be stripped, I then attempted to remove it, but nothing happened then either. Instead, it kept spinning and spinning while mysteriously staying in place no matter which way I turned it:

Vexed by this hypnotically-spinning nut and unable to either remove or tighten the brake, I then took it apart, which only served to underscore how generally out of alignment the front end of the bicycle was:

Ultimately, I concluded, it would need to be removed destructively and replaced, but in the meantime I simply reassembled it and moved on to making sure the crankarms were on tight:

They were. Then, I installed the conveniently color-coded pedals:

Finally, I installed the seatpost and saddle, topped off the tires, and hit the streets. Here's the view from the "cockpit:"

I headed immediately to the bike path on Ocean Parkway in Brooklyn. Apart from the odd "hipster" making an ironic fixed-gear schlep to Coney Island, the bicycle traffic there consists almost entirely of department store bikes. Really, it's to Magnas and Huffys what Daytona Beach is to motorcycles, so I figured it was a perfect place for a test ride. Not only was the front end generally off-kilter, but the pedals also squirmed slightly under my feet, indicating that perhaps the bottom bracket spindle was bent. Also, when I coasted, instead of the click-click-click of pawls there was an odd vinyl "whooshing" sound. Still, it worked. Here it is, leaning seductively on its kickstand:

Frankly, I had mixed feelings at this point. Sure, $150 was cheap, and sure the bicycle worked, but the mangled headset and front brake in particular were troublesome to me, and it seemed that even $300 could buy you a much better bicycle from a different vendor. Then again, while I like to think I prize utility over extravagance, the fact is that in many ways I'm perhaps too far removed from the Mongoose Cachet demographic to judge it properly, and maybe the fact that it rolls is enough. As I said earlier, my hope was that the Cachet might serve as sort of a "gateway drug" for the American teenager, and clearly I needed a teenager's point of view. So, I turned the bike over to my ironic intern, Spencer Madsen for further testing. As you can see, he looks pleased yet apprehensive:

Once the "Youth of America" test results are in, I will share them with you at a later date. In the meantime, if you go to Walmart, you may want to stick to the sheds.