hero worship is not a productive pastime

What? You scared? Slouchy, hungover and aching is no way to go through life, son.

There are certain protocols, specificities of etiquette. Niceties, if you will, which it were better to observe. Consider: say you are riding with nameless "friends", in the woods, in the dark, and you get separated. Established behavioral norms cemented in place to a diamond hardness and sheen by millenia of Fine Upstanding Tradition and reasoned discourse and a consensus of mutual benefaction plus Goodwill to All and to All a Good Night has it that you stop. You assess. You maybe hoot the International Distress Call* (whatever your local and- hopefully- recognized variant may be). You listen. You maybe hoot again. Bearing in mind that you might be in a er situation that could be construed by the narrow minded as technically "off limits" or somesuch. ____ing, etc.

If your party fails (and I use the word lightly. Gently. Tough lovingly.) to show then Logic, Reason and Experience dictate that you retrace your pedal strokes back to the last intersection at which all were present. Simple as that.

But. In the real world, folks get tugged along by circumstance and shit goes wrong. That has been my experience, anyways. Last night I dropped that short, steep doubletrack to the 3 way and hooked a left. The left is the direction we'd discussed taking twice, and it is the flowier option. Straight up the middle there is singletrack, yes, but it climbs and is no joke right away and goes another way and stuff. The right is not worth considering. The drop, the way we'd come- well, it is a reverse and all.

So. Like I say, I railed that sweet assed descent and flowed like water along the further and delicious descent around several corners to the correct singletrack and pulled up to wait for my faceless associates. It being a dark night, and us being in flagrante delicto, (best Latin phrase of all time?)  I shut my lights down and stood around wondering what might be the case as I was all of a sudden alone. I waited. I hooted. I reckoned La__y and Cu_ly had to be back at the 3 way doing something, and rode back up to see.

That 3 way was black and empty. I repeated the lights-off and the hooting and the listening. Nothing. 3 possible routes, with 1 of them being unlikely. Eventually (minutes), I walked up the middle trail because it was most likely to my mind, and sure enough- there was a tire mark. So I walked back down and got on the bike to pursue. Up and up steeply. Hooting. Listening. Across, around, under, over and up again steeply. At that one meadow I stopped and hooted. Shut my lights down- batteries wear down quick!

I heard a voice. "Take the wrong trail?" Man, did that tear it for me.

"No. I took the right trail." Then I made some remark about them not hearing me or hooting themselves or seeing my lights, etc. This was rebuffed. I asked, hotly- it's true- why they didn't head back to the 3 way, as is to be expected. This was rebuffed.

I really popped a wheelie. There was a yelly confrontational lecture. I was told to drink a beer and to lighten up and eventually to shut the fuck up- all of which were good advice. I stated that I would be willing to part ways on a semi-permanent basis. I was less than polite. I may have actually sputtered like a wet hen.

So not one of my finer moments. It was brought to my attention that "it's not Antarctica" and that there really were no serious consequences that had arisen, which are true. I acknowledged that I had gotten overbearing, and they are not my kids... after a while. What got me and kept getting me was that Subject M would not acknowledge any responsibility nor proper procedures. I felt that I am entitled (oops! that can't be good...) to a certain amount of Respect and that that amount of Respect was not being given. I think that's probably the real issue. REspect due.Yes I.

It is easy to seem reasonable and in the right here on screen. Who doesn't want to seem the good guy? Do any of us see ourselfs clearly, without the fog of our self-perceptive beer goggles? I have the moral high ground ( for fucking SURE!) but is it worth holding like a grudge? Do 12 minutes alone in the dark woods warrant a total freak out? No. My reaction is disappointing to me. In the big picture, it is some small hot potatoes.

Anyhow. The whole affair is a bummer- including being introspective about it. I am happy to drop the subject now.








*Remind me to tell you the story of the international distress call in person. The hoot is very distinctive and funny.

no Saviour for our sakes

Bicycle-wise I should have been born like 121 years ago. It gives me goosebumps on my self, the riding on the trails. With the no other people around. I really dig that.

As I cast my yellowed sclera around in these connected computer tubeways, I see talk talk talk talk. Like what you are seeing now, only not as mmmmmpacked with...uh...knowledge. Thinking specifically of bikepacking. I'm just as covetous of sano equipment as the crows are of the shiny ______. On account of this, in looking around at websites in search of the "perfect" gear, I've come upon so much hemming and so many hawings. I am reminded of the lady who thought she could not use a road bike helmet for her mountain biking.

So.

Here: it's not whether you have the perfect gear, it's whether you go out. If you already know that, then fuck yeah! and if you didn't , then now you do so fuck yeah! Seriously, you can stress about how much your toofbrush weighs and lament the weighty effects of this cumulative toting of sub-par gear over the course of your trip...if it makes you happy. Or, you can apply your mind and your 'magination to the task of finding the right mess of gear/bike to take you to the fun. If it's just right, you will forget about the "stuff" and be caught up in the riding. And if it's not just right, you aren't going to break; you can use that earned knowledge to refine yourself and your choices.

Again, nothing you don't already know.

I really think most of the forum jockeys don't actually ride at all. Don't worry about the "right" gear. Just ride the damn bike, maaaaan.

And, for the record, I can't get enough of a positive outlook:



You think Lee Williams gives a moment's thought to whether his kit is up to emerging standards?!
No. He just rides.

D_____ the Purto Rican.

Duke Ellington's orchestra is featured playing Juan Tizol's Caravan. Juan Tizol, valve trombone player is from PR, just like my boy D. No really. I know it looks like we're trying over here to populate the world according to Aryan ideals, but that don't change the fact.


D wove his way to 4th place in the 6-10 category in the Manzanita Park CCCX race today. The same kid as usual took 1st with a substantial gap. Several of the 6 and Unders had cut the course with their chaperones to avoid the upper section, placing them in the lead at the final section before the (cruel and sweet) wickedly steep and rutted/loose run up. J and I ran back and forth across the course to cheer and bell ring at different spots, and I saw the 1st place kid 's expression when he noticed there were kids on the course ahead of him. It was ferocious- that kid wants to crush the enemy, to see them driven before him, and to hear the lamentation of their women.

To this race, D brought his friend M______, (which is a whole other can of worms; I want the boy to have friends and all, I just wish I could pick them...) who brought as his knife at this gunfight a beat on Target bought bmx (no, it should NOT be capitalized) which required a headset adjust and air in the tires. Done.

We surveyed the (known) course, and spotted the tricky sections post registration. I could see the wheels turning in M_______'s head after a few of these, and offered him a graceful out if he wanted. I have to admit, he said he was ready and had no complaints. To his credit. It's a daunting course, particularly on a bike which is 1/3 of your weight.

A couple last minute words to D (mark the fast guys and stay with them, don't go crazy with the speed and crash- like he's done several times charging straight into corners, keep it in until the steep downhill and then turn it on, etc) and they were off. 26 kids all told.



Looked like a Good Time was had by all. M______ came in laaaaaaaaaast, but he rode the entire course (after several hard though fruitless efforts, he allowed me to carry his heavy bike up the cruel runup) and his medal says 1st on it, and you cannot argue with that. All the kids received a gimme water bottle full of strawberries (CalGiant is a sponsor), a medal, and a drink of their choice. Well, some of them tried for the Monster Energy Drinks and were denied, but in the appropriate choices they were given free reign.

On the way to get their picture taken on the podium, Rod (the promoter) was encouraging the kids. I overheard some sour guy say to another snickering back of the bus type, "Yeah ,Rod, get 'em started early so you can hook 'em and get their money! Heeheehee" This is so fucking lame. It is still bugging me. I was walking with 3 kids and it wasn't the time or venue for the kind of confrontation for which remarks like that call. But I would like to have pointed out (real politely) that 26 kids all received kickass prizes, medals (yes, every kid got a medal?!?) and recognition for the effort they clocked, at no charge.



Yes, those kids all race free. I'm not racing because I cannot at this time justify the $30 fee to ride in (admittedly fun) circles when there's free trails to be had, but. Free.

There is no future in cycling (of any stripe) without youth involvement. If you're a cynical, jaded-because it is the hip thing, world-weary drag, you can look at it as a sleazy business proposition, sure. Or, you can see what a Great Time these kids are having, and celebrate it.

All photos from Rick Rasmussen, who graciously allows downloads.

Ready, WILLING, Able?

photo taken from M. Curiak, link below

I have been following along with Mr. Curiak's off road adventuring here, and dang! am I envious. I know I have been very fortunate in my riding life; both in places I've lived having fantastic trails and in trips I've taken for riding...but that guy is operating on a whole 'nother level.

I personally have ZERO interest in riding my bike through shi_loads of snow and all. Because that does not sound like fun. I'd rather ski/snowboard if it's gonna be like that. But maybe that's what gave him the outlook needed to pull off the stuff he's on about now. Self-supported multi-day back-country riding. That sounds good, huh? Yeeeeeees.

The Colorado Trip this summer was super fun. Good folks and better trails. It has given me the awareness of what it takes to plan something along these lines. That is the hard part- trails can be tough to hook together for this kind of distance, more so when you don't live there and know them. And it has given me the awareness of what it takes to execute a series of epic rides. That is the hard part- day after day riding is hard work, and trail junctions can be hella confusing when you're an exhausted simpleton. But fundamentally, a trip (of whatever duration or sort) takes one thing to make it kickass:

The willingness to have a good time.

That is the most important element in whatever adventure you happen to be on. Whether it's a 60 mile jaunt through alpine singletrack with cold beer waiting at the end, it's yet another lap of the local loop, or it's riding alternately boring and terrifying(cars) same old streets to get to work. It's far too easy to let _________ get in the way of a Good Time. People get tired and cranky. People have expectations that are disappointed. People get rained on, or cold, or too hot, or...People have a rigid schedule that must be followed. People have mechanical issues. People get injured. People don't have the bike for the purpose. People can't be bothered to ride because they are too out of shape, or have to get up early the next day, or...


The willingness to have a Good Time can solve all your problems. The Church of the Sub Genius, before they became embittered and fell on hard times because they staked all their hopes on alien salvation (hmmmm- divine help from the sky. sound like any other religion?) which failed to appear on X Day 1998 as promised (hmmm-appointed day for Salvation did not deliver. sound like any other religion? better reschedule, and this time leave it open ended, or the sheep will get restless and harder to fleece), had a good premise: the Short Duration Personal Savior. The ShorDurPerSav could be whomever or whatever you need to get you through. Maybe you need Jesus, or Mohammed, or maybe your God is nothing but an elephant! Maybe you just need that flattened and sweaty PB&J that's been waiting (already appraised and dismissed) in your jersey pocket for the last 2 hours. Maybe you need the love of your Sweetie. Maybe you need your mom. Whatever you label your need, it comes down to the Willingness to have a Good Time.

ladies?...put your hands up, put your hands up

So N and I went grocery shopping today. I hate going (anytime) especially on the weekend, because the freaks come out. Even if they don't, it is just damned crowded. Today there were three people (that I noticed) wearing their sunglasses in the store- and no, these were not the prescription kind. I mention this because it bugged me.
And right away (Right Away) we can barely maneuver the cart it's so packed. And all the yahoos leave their carts in the aisles, etc. So we're almost done, and this cart is blocking a major corner in the coffee/bread interchange. There are 3 other people at a dead stop, rolling their eyes at one another and waiting impatiently. I walk up and I move it, muttering curses, and one of the sunglass wearers (an older woman who's maybe wearing hers to cover her latest round of plastic surgery judging from her bloated, misshapen lips) snatches it, saying "That's mine! Sorry." Then she moves one aisle down the artery and leaves it, blocking that intersection...


But I spent much of the afternoon changing the set up of L's Crosscheck. She's been riding her townie exclusively because it's so much more comfortable. This played a part in her crash (32 stitches! 5 in the muscle belly and 2 inside her lip!) at Arroyo Seco. The tires were just so skinny. To get her rolling again in offroad style, I swapped in the WTB MutanoRaptor 700/44s. Complimented by the swap of picture from Rivendell Bicycle Works
Nitto Albatross Bars (which had been on my Long Haul Trucker, and came complete with sweet shellacked cork grips with nifty reflector plugs, super good-feeling Paul's canti levers, and utterly hoardable & impossible to break Oooold skewel Shimano Unishift shifters {with the clamshell aluminum body! allowing cable routing from either direction...} hmmm, that setup may get swapped out again...) and a longer stem in place of the Moustache bars for a more upright position. Also, one of these. And while I was at it, the Tektro CR720 cantilevers. They have a real nice action, and are super reasonably priced. And finally the Brooks B18 I have been hoarding.I had been holding this stuff back, waiting to place it triumphantly on my Big Dummy. Honestly though, L deserves it more than I...

It's going to be such a useful and kickass camping bike! Now her bike is so shiny and transformed, it whispers to me. It's a good thing for L that it isn't my size.

and speaking of stylish ladies' bikes not in my size but I wish they were...

Up(and)coming Events

SLEAZE OTTER LOOMS ON HORIZON LIKE A DRUNKEN ALBATROSS! CITY FATHERS CONCERNED...SPONSORS WEAVING IN AND OUT OF SPONSORSHIP LIKE A BUNCH OF TRAINJUMPING WINOS. LOCAL GIRLS WARNED TO STAY INDOORS....

And so it goes. Inneresting rumors around town with regards to this most mercurial of local bike "race"s. All's I know is- I better get them chacha heels. Word on the boulevard has it that the effing course is not even set, yet?!? C'mon, people...don't do us like y'all did last year and let the participants make poor decisions in the heat of competetition. And, plus my sources in the back rooms and bordellos of old Monterey tell me that there may be something along these lines in the works. Playing it safe may be your best bet, but I'm putting my money where my outfit is-buried in the ground and aging to mouldy perfection...
Speaking of lines, apparently lines are already being drawn in the sand blown across the bikepath in regard to what bike to ride (and, sadly, whether there is a correct bike to ride), and if there is rampant glamourisation of poverty implied by the very crassly worded flyer? I say, play it by ear with a 6 pack to go and whatever rig suits your fancy pants.


Mini Rant: Why can't we, cyclists, be nice to ourselves when we meet us? Everybody else wants to run us over...who cares what kind of bike somebody else rides?!? They're on their BIKE, not you. Hipsters on fixxxies does not lessen the value inherent in riding connected, just as road bikes are swoopy and fast and don't lessen the offroad ride...Jesus _uck, people.

Touch me baby...

Tainted Meat. Oh, tainted meat. As if we needed another reason:

"The U.S. Department of Agriculture did not provide adequate support to help school districts track, handle, and dispose of tainted beef in the wake of the largest meat recall in U.S. history, witnesses told the House Education and Labor Committee today. The USDA issued the recall last month after a U.S. Humane Society investigation revealed that meat from non-ambulatory (or “downer”) cows at a California meatpacking company had been allowed to enter the food supply. Federal law prohibits meat from downer cows from entering the food supply because it poses a greater risk of salmonella and e.coli contamination and mad cow disease. More than a third of the tainted meat – more than 50 million pounds – had gone to federal nutrition programs, including to schools."


This may be old hat to many of y'all, but this is parent-teacher conference week here, so it's on my mind. My kids bring their lunches, because we're already avoiding the tainted meat as a matter of course. If yours do not, consider bagged lunches of whatever type of food you prefer- it's bound to be more carefully chosen on any number of levels.Grocery Guy has a timely post here. And there's this. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Upton Sinclair, anyone?

The largest beef recall in US history. Ever.


Meanwhile, these people are insanely over the top, and I heart the whole thing...
By day...

By night...

But then, I would wear this
if I could only find one, so take it as you will.

Kiss of Death for Fredo and Tyler, too

I don't normally read pro cycling news sites. In these days of drug-addled (and not the good kind) false hard men, they don't speak to me. But I'd been directed by people who know to see Brian Vernor's (of bike movie fame?) article on the Tour d'Afrique on Velonews' site. And while there, I looked at the videos section and saw the interview with Rock Racing's Oscar Sevilla, Santiago Botero, and (yes) Tyler Hamilton. Or perhaps it was his chimerical twin, it was hard to tell with the stupid hat on. (I can't link it, so if you're innerested in seeing it, go there yerself. )
The reason I mention it is because I learned that the jackasses I referenced several posts ago weren't in fact solely corporate posers blocking traffic pretending to race, they were also "ex"doped up racers unable to participate. And the reason I'm bitter about the whole thing is that Tyler was my Golden Boy.
Everbody knew Lance was doing something, but Tyler held out the promise of the plucky underdog suffering through by grit and intestinal fortitude. In spite of his relationship with Risse. The busted collarbone in the cold and wet? I'm not ashamed to say I still have that poster up. I am confused and amazed at my own capacity for self delusion, but not ashamed of the awe and admiration with which I look at that little man squint and climb and hurt. But the lies and the unborn doppleganger speak just cheapen the pain. If the drugs they're taking aren't hindering them by making them unsteady and a little silly, then I just can't get behind them. That's not recreational drug use, that's...medication. And now there's synthetic blood that aspirates out of your illegally oxygenated circulatory system in hours? WTF? I don't wanna watch androids. Eff those guys.
I want effing Hampsten on the Gavia. I want those scrawny pro mutha _uckas to hurt beyond the capacity of the rest of us. To show us what the real capacity for suffering is. To push the edge a little further out. Riding a little further out is different from marching into Bioengineered Super Soldier Land. And yes, I realize it's thin black ice I'm coasting along on here. Anquetil hisself said the Tour was not won on mineral water alone. I get it, but I don't want to. This worship of the heroes of the Old School and denial of the new skool is unrealistic. It's disturbingly similar to the the general acceptance of Established Religions and the ridicule of upstart cults (viz. Mormonism). In each case, the old guard gets a pass because they've became enshrined in Time. No questioning them now, is there? But the new kids are playing the same con, it's just herandnow so we're able to peak behind the curtain.

So what are you gonna do? Me, I'm gonna pull the wool over my own eyes and find a Church with a curtain we can all fit behind. Safety first and all.

Choose (and purchase?) your own adventure

I yanked this image from Wooster Collective. That man worked hard for that meal. He sweated and ran and earned.

The "handbikeshowjob" continues to resonate for me. All those rides were sweet. And there was some discussion regarding whether or not, if you were the new owner of a, say $5,800, fixxie you'd ride the bike lik a bike or treat it like an artpiece and hang it up except for Parades and stuff. I'd ride it, and not even regret the dings. I'd attempt to keep it clean, but I wouldn't sweat the dings. (there was also speculation as to the superior power : flight or invisibility...choose one)


A bike is a bike, fundamentally. It becomes easy, at a certain point in your obsession with bikes and bike rides, to narrow the focus. It becomes so narrow for some that Dura Ace is a mid range group. There is more and more specialization and fragmentation within this little group of ours. The Industry desperately seeks the next big thing, or at least cooler graphics. I want a new bike, too. My next sweet ride will be the Surly Big Dummy. Time to replace the flexy/creaky Xtracycle.

The larger obvious example of this grasping for Cool is fashion. People want (currently) a faded, worn, used, lived in Look. So they buy this and instead of miles of riding leaving scars- true life stories that are the wearer's own, they get (at best) a mad lib. Or they buy these
and fool (themselves) people into believing they've actually done something, anything real, in these jeans. That they've lived. The proof is right there, machine worn into the fabric of their being.

Society at large (here anyway) pushes people to acquire the accoutrements of adventure while pursuit of means to buy same keeps us from the adventure itself. This isn't news, I know. The story of the master who asked his disciples why they rode their bikes comes to mind. So, in light of all those beautiful bikes and shiny parts, I'd like to suggest that we not lose sight of the fact that (even) a bikepath Trek (shudder) is kickass if it's being used. And if that super tricked out custom "whip" sits in the corner, it sucks.

To see the bobcats, you have go where they are.
Or you could watch television.


Here's this. Which, to me, is an example of what drives people to vigilantism. Not me, but some guys I know would not let that one lie...






P.S. I know the guy who got the $5,800 fixxie, and he's gonna use the hell out of it. J____, I told the tall one with the pony tail that you were just gonna get drunk and crash it. He didn't know what to do with that, so I took pity on him and walked away.

Rrrrrrrraging Dandyism Reigns in River City...

By now you've seen all the pictures you care to (if you care to) of the North American Handmade Bicycle Show 2008. I took several on Friday, but soon lost interest. Seeing the cameras some folks had was eye opening, and their pictures are much higher quality than any of mine. So go here, here, here and here if you want.
But there is some "insider" reporting to be done, and here's the deal:
You see that fellow above? Imagine him wearing a combination of 2-3 of the following....a waxed moustache, a knee high pair of argyle socks, a knee high pair of gaily striped socks, pink barrettes, 2 more sweaters each smaller than that one, a fedora, a bowler, a roostered out mullet with tendrils snaking down his neck, and mandatory ramrod straight posture.
Yes, he is a rather tame specimen of the Portland scenesters...WTF? Who knew? I had no inkling that this steampunk/thrift/sensitivebikepoet culture existed. They all want to be this guy, or maybe this guy from 3:10 to Yuma (great flick):
I was this guy:
with a big chunk of this guy:


and this was a view I saw a lot of:
while doing my best to make sure everyone else had this vision as well.

Attending with Hunter Cycles and Black Cat Bicycles was a guaranteed Real Good Time. The intent to distribute beer at Black Cat was thwarted by the show security, so we had to keep the drinking under wraps by using official show cups...this worked so well, that we kept doing it. Over and over. If y'all came by the booth, I hope we were attentive. Everyone was intending to be helpful, with more or less success- depending. A large contingent from Santa Cruz bikes were in effect, so there was lots of internicene squabbling and some pushing, slapping, and grabassery. The dropouts -go see Black Cat- were a huge hit, as they should be. Frames were sold, interest piqued.

Hunter had some truly useful and well thought out cargo bikes, along with a sexy, curvy 29er swamper with a bitchin, pinstriped (Watsonville, holmes!) lowrider paint scheme and integrated arced bar-stem combo. And, they had some really useful and stylish caps custom from Rainy Peak Cyclery, (go see them and heckle until they respond , it's worth it for the unbelievable knickers)- some truly Quality People.


I'd be remiss if I didn't point out what everyone from Portland was crowing about- that it has more strip clubs per capita than even Vegas. This is true. And a good thing, too.

We even made it to the Diablo, a "vegan" strip club. The speculation about the real meaning of this went everywhere you think it did. My first happy thoughts were of anemic girls with granny glasses, and hairy armpits wearing old fashioned pasties and wool shorts...
Of course, the reality fell far short of this. In point of fact, the girl I interviewed was not certain why it was a vegan club, and"thought" they had good food but was neither a vegetarian nor a very talented stripper. The talent pool was far deeper at Union Jacks or Sassy's. I like the Sexy Librarian.

Everyone affiliated with me had bikes, and that was best. Weather turned out awesome, and I only used the selftent for one ride. After the show we rode everywhere, and everywhere we rode there were other people on bikes. Lots of them. Lots. Derbies broke out, booze was broke out, bikes were piled, seeds and stems were piled...a fire was lit. It was very different in that regard (well, the hordes of riders, anyway) from the San Jose shows or Interbike. So, raging dandies and all, Portland kicked ass and it's a bummer that Indianapolis is the next stop. Sorry, Indiana, but what was Don Walker thinking? Boo. Hiss.

Here are some photos I stole from the sites cited above. Starting with the Sycip keg pull shifters... not so practical, but fun.


The hunter Cycles (Pajaro, the no frills version of Hunter bikes) model Hillbilly Roadster..

A top contender for me( I lik a big headube) was this ssx from Retrotec's Curtis Inglis
I accosted Curtis in (where else?) the men's room to tell him I wanted to talk about not getting into SSWC2008- he groaned, apparently this happens a lot. I laughed and told him I was coming anyway and poaching his race. He's a good guy with a good sense of humor. He said I should. And I will. And You should too.


I really liked this
from Villin Cycles. The part you can't see here so well is the super nice small touch of twined "lugs" of copper wire. Neat bike.

These guys are bike kooks in the best way, and this bike represents, generally, the rando/townie vibe of the show...

Here're some detail shots of the Naked bike that won a) people's choice b) best in show, and c) President Walker's Choice... check out the wood inlaid Aheadset
marvel at the custom wood grips..
wonder about the wisdom of this (admittedly well executed) lock hole...

because you know you'd never leave this bike locked somewheres, and you'd lose your wood rimmed wheels [yes, they were not only present but prevalent. I hate the very idea. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Bad in the dry(warp, shrink), bad in the wet (warp, swell). Yeah, yeah, yeah...show bike this and that....stooopid. There was even a seminar on them? I missed that one in favor of drinking beer and talking shit.] Anyway, I looked at this bike at least 5 times, and saw a detail I'd missed before at each new viewing. Really, an amazing bike. Supposedly Lance Armstrong bought it. No, I did not see him, but he was there.


And, in spite of the "What would Sascha Do" buttons that were popping up on well dressed showgoers all over, my personal favorite...
It's his daughter's bike, with 24" (?) wheels. Loudass was heard to remark "Bet that kid goes to private school" while passing... what would Sascha do? He'd have a 4 (!) year (!) wait list! Sorry, y'all are suckers. Holy Crap, it's nice, but:
Yep. That's MY daughter on her green stylee townie. A thrift store fillet brazed Schwinn, bitches.

Still and all..

Mail Order Brides

So that heading ought to bring in the real quality search response. But what I'd intended was much less titillating...

1) If you get your bike mail order, you are missing the big picture. Another way of putting that would be: you suck. Full stop. I'm not innerested in your whiny pricepoint arguments, either. If money is such a concern, you can talk to your Local Bike Shop and they'll be able to recommend alternatives. They are your Local. If you don't understand the import there, you probably go drinkin' at Chilis or TGIF. How's that Olive Garden real Italian treating you? Fecking Walmart import everything including our food shortsighted knownothing.

You get a discount mailorder. That's all. Your local can fit you, give you qualified service quickly, recommend products that work under the conditions in your area, give ride advice, route ideas, warranty, and increase your knowledge and goodtimes with re. to bikes.

If your local shop is staffed and owned by "jerks", try another. If that one is staffed by "jerks", you might consider the common denominator.


This all comes from encountering yet another jackass on a ____________ bike from mail order company _____________. They're interchangeable. The companies, the bikes, and the jackasses. I've heard enough ignorant remarks about my bike or kit from these trendbiting followers. Pretty much doesn't matter what bike or kit I am using, as they're all wool and stained or have holes, or are covered in dirt and have "weird" parts, or the tires are the wrong psi, or they read _____________in __________ magazine so I should try that...
(this image came up whiles searching for planet of the apes. weird.)

Mostly, I just smile and nod. It's typically not meant to be insulting (though sometimes it is, but that's more amusing than anything else), it's just boring and tedious. I really don't want to have a discussion about it, as they expect justification and typically can't see the value in something so not shiny/new/light/"pro".

2) So up comes yahoo-guy on a bright red Scattante, with a Weyless carbon fork wearing full plastic team kit. "Who's riding that bike?" at the parking lot before doing Fremont today. "Your mom." I told him. Unfortunately, everyone in the group was in better shape than I, and I was at the receiving end of an ass handing. Again. That doesn't bother me; if only cuz it happens regularly these days. It bothers me that, 5,000 feet of gain later, at the end, it's "Good job. On that bike that's impressive." or "Wow, I can't believe you rode that on that bike." I just said "It's not the bike.", and walked off. Gah.

For the record, the particular bike in question is a full custom (steel) road bike from Black Cat Bicycles equipped with 2006 Dura Ace/King (headset & hubs) etc., a Rick Hunter fork, and an ugly mustard powdercoat. But because I opted (consciously, while awake and in full possession of my senses) for cantilevers (Paul Comp.) and 35mm tires, it's "that bike". WTF? Ignorance.

Also for the record, I recognize the pettiness of these concerns in the larger arena that is real life. However, this is all about biking...you knew that when you showed up, didn't you?
see the apes pretend they're men with their shiny tech suits


This is really 2 rants on relates subjects. 1) mail order lameness and 2) using a bike as a tool to get a leg up (the tired, apelike chest thumping of who's bike is coolest), to be one up on someone he's (not even) just met. I relate the 2 because yesterday's jackass was on a mail order POS that he clearly thought was "blingety bling" while attempting to climb over me to a higher echelon of the Peloton of the Apes. And then wants to throw me a bone ("that's impressive- that you rode that bike.") so he can reinforce his "postion" as alpha while patting himself on the back for being so cool to the poor sap on that bike. C____ B_______ said I should get stronger and show them it's not the bike. I should get stronger, cuz better fitness means harder/longer rides= more fun. I don't want to show them, I just want to ride my bike without that bullshi_. those fools don't lik to ride, they like to feel superior. There is a certain amount of politics involved in any group ride, and by politics I mean drama. It has been in the past, and can be in the future, a great experience riding with a group. I like riding with fast guys, because going fast is fun and it's a good way to get stronger. (My problem is that the local scene is not so conducive to my steezyle of moderately fast, moderately party...the fast guys here don't party, and the partiers on bikes are that because they've lost their license...) I gotta go ride in Santa Cruz more.

Finally for the record, I enjoyed the hell out of myself singing along with Kool & the Gang to "Celebration" as I used my weight to my advantage hauling ass down Fremont. Actually, all the riding was kick ass.
"Damn dirty apes."

P.S. Apologies and a tip of the cap to Velo Orange and , of course, Rivendell. Exceptional exceptions.