what you have been waiting for

That for which.
Soul. Soul. SOUL.

And, plus I took "ownership" of this yesterday:

That is correct. Your eyes are seeing a plastic, electrified version of a street bicycle. That is the photo with which I announced to my friends that I am, variously: a "sell-out", a hypocrite, "thinking outside the box", and a f*g (disclaimer- c'mon. I know how this was intended, and by whom, and we love the gays. They have the best clubs and good senses of humor. No disrespect.)&that "I'm pretty sure [I] have to shave [my] b-sack now"...depending on who is talking. My own sweet wife said it looked ___. No one loves it.


You're all jealous losers.


That is a bicycle I would NEVER purchase, even if I could. It goes against every tenet of cycling and Life I hold dear save one- holy afterburners, Batman! that thing is going to be a _other_ucking rocket. So fast.

I am against child labor in foreign countries. I am dead against plastic. I am deader against electrified shiftiness. I am against radial lacing- ain't seeing even 175lbs ever again. I am against internal routing- seriously, what a pain in the ass. I am against glaringly silver chainrings on an otherwise matte ride.

Why do I "own" it? Well, because it rides so nice. At our shop, we have what's called a "dealer agreement" and are required by this to purchase a certain number of bicycles at certain price points. Our owner, who is not coming at this from a cycling background, is coming at this from a background of being a flexible and open-handed fellow. To satisfy part of this agreement , he has instituted the policy of employee leasing- whereby we agree to build a certain number (so lowball! if you could have been there for the late night drunken speculation at the New Stairs regarding what that number might turn out to be..) of bikes off the clock in exchange for the use of the bike (almost whatever one we wanted) for a year. Next model year, the bike will be sold at cost and we all win.

So now I have the perfect storm regarding this plastic, electrified street bike. I grudgingly concede that carbon fibre rides hella sweet. But that ish breaks and is breakable. This frame is made from the orphaned tears of tatterdemalion(!)  6 year old Taiwanese robotic orangutangs, not by one of my so-called "friends" down the road. I would never, ever purchase it for myself, even if I could afford it. If my frame is made from blood sweat and tears- they should be the blood, the sweat and (most of all) tears of someone I can heckle at the local cross race.

As for the electric, well- it's middle fingers up to all of you, and especially to me. Gimme some friction shifting barcons and all is well. Repairable. Unbreakable. But- hand it to me for a year? Why the efff not?

So. I'mma show up at the Makers Meet tomorrow in Santa Cruz and talk mad shit about how great this bike is...from the back.


And if y'all need more, check this out.