BikeSnobNYC's Blog, page 28
March 13, 2018
Don't Buy Upgrades, Ride Software Upgrades
Well, racing bikes outside had a good run. In 1869 it was high-wheelers gentlemanly glove-slaps:
[PDF]
In 1903 came the first-ever Tour de France:
And for some reason to this day cyclists keep racing against horses:
How is that fair? Shouldn't Casper also have to pull a passenger?
Actually, for it to be truly fair he should have to pull a horse.
Regardless, after well over a century and a half of thrill, spills, and doping scandals, it appears the days of racing bikes outside are over, only to be replaced with this:
Someday in the not-too-distant future, the world’s premier cycling races are held inside arenas packed with screaming fans. The cyclists do not travel an inch on their bicycles — instead, they pedal invisible miles on a stationary trainer. The attacks, counter-attacks, and strategic drama play out in the virtual world on a computer screen. Across the globe, hundreds of thousands of fans tune in to watch.
This is Frank Garcia’s vision.
And if your first thought was that Frank Garcia must be a masters racer with too much money on his hands, then it shouldn't surprise you to learn that you're right:
Garcia, 53, is a software engineer and entrepreneur from Tucson, Arizona. A longtime cyclist and masters racer, Garcia was an early adopter of the virtual training platform Zwift. Garcia’s passion for Zwift racing was so strong that in 2015 he rode the entire elevation of Mt. Everest in the virtual world, pedaling 165 miles on his stationary trainer over the course of 17 hours.
Over the past year, Garcia has bankrolled a series of virtual races on Zwift, called Cycligent Virtual Ranking, or CVR. In 2017, he held live CVR World Cup tournaments in Las Vegas, Paris, and London; each event was broadcast across the globe via a webcast that included live commentary, racing metrics such as power output, and even athlete interviews. CVR’s next event is the March 25 World Cup race at the VELO Sports Center velodrome at the StubHub Center in Los Angeles. CVR will award $100,000 in cash and prizes to its competitors this winter.
As antithetical as all of this might appear to be to the spirit of cycling and bicycle racing, the truth is I only have one problem with it, and it is this:
If it's all virtual, then why wear cycling clothes?
Seriously, isn't all this stuff optimized for propelling a bicycle forward while being outside? Seems to me that aerodynamics mean nothing here and cooling is everything. I mean what's with the sleeves? Have they never seen a SoulCycle class?
Indeed, at the pro level it would probably make the most sense to compete "Full Cipo" for maximum cooling, with perhaps the judicious application of some small taintal pad to protect the perineum--and if virtual racing really is the future I may start selling a new product called the "Stand-Alone Chamois:"
Just add a light adhesive and you're off (virtually) to the races.
Oh, and one other thing bothers me about this whole thing:
Why hold the races in a velodrome?
Isn't that like going to a movie theater to stream Netflix on a tablet?
I mean really, you're already in the clothes, and you've already got the bike, and there's a perfectly good track 20 feet away, so why not just...oh, never mind.
Sounds like thrilling viewing:
In September, Garcia held his third race at the National Velodrome in Paris. The tournament featured a prize purse of $44,735, paid in part by Garcia and through donations — fans that tuned into the broadcast submitted cash through online transactions to boost the prize pot. Similar to the previous competitions, every athlete had a camera pointed at them throughout the racing.
If you can't get enough of sweaty people wincing in a non-sexual context then clearly this is the spectator sport for you.
By the way, speaking of competitive pedaling without going anywhere, whatever happened to roller racing? It was having a big comeback until everyone gave up on track bikes and defected to gravel bikes:
Oh, well, it was fun boring while it lasted.
In any case, as long as pro bike racers are desperate for money there will be no shortage of virtual cycling competitors, which means the future of the sport is all but assured:
“For $100,000, I’ll do any bike race, any format, it’s all suffering one in the same,” said Jelly Belly rider Ben Wolfe.
For $50 he'll also help you move.
And even USA Cycling, that most desperate of sports governing bodies, is in the "early stages" of exploring it:
UCI representatives did not respond to queries about any future relationships with CVR. USA Cycling provided a statement that said any plans between the governing body and Zwift are “still in the early stages.”
“We are exploring engaging new ways to collaborate that offer more value to our core racers as well as bring new riders into the sport,” the statement said.
USA Cycling should probably just stop with the bike racing and pivot to becoming a moving company already.
[PDF]In 1903 came the first-ever Tour de France:
And for some reason to this day cyclists keep racing against horses:
How is that fair? Shouldn't Casper also have to pull a passenger?
Actually, for it to be truly fair he should have to pull a horse.
Regardless, after well over a century and a half of thrill, spills, and doping scandals, it appears the days of racing bikes outside are over, only to be replaced with this:
Someday in the not-too-distant future, the world’s premier cycling races are held inside arenas packed with screaming fans. The cyclists do not travel an inch on their bicycles — instead, they pedal invisible miles on a stationary trainer. The attacks, counter-attacks, and strategic drama play out in the virtual world on a computer screen. Across the globe, hundreds of thousands of fans tune in to watch.
This is Frank Garcia’s vision.
And if your first thought was that Frank Garcia must be a masters racer with too much money on his hands, then it shouldn't surprise you to learn that you're right:
Garcia, 53, is a software engineer and entrepreneur from Tucson, Arizona. A longtime cyclist and masters racer, Garcia was an early adopter of the virtual training platform Zwift. Garcia’s passion for Zwift racing was so strong that in 2015 he rode the entire elevation of Mt. Everest in the virtual world, pedaling 165 miles on his stationary trainer over the course of 17 hours.
Over the past year, Garcia has bankrolled a series of virtual races on Zwift, called Cycligent Virtual Ranking, or CVR. In 2017, he held live CVR World Cup tournaments in Las Vegas, Paris, and London; each event was broadcast across the globe via a webcast that included live commentary, racing metrics such as power output, and even athlete interviews. CVR’s next event is the March 25 World Cup race at the VELO Sports Center velodrome at the StubHub Center in Los Angeles. CVR will award $100,000 in cash and prizes to its competitors this winter.
As antithetical as all of this might appear to be to the spirit of cycling and bicycle racing, the truth is I only have one problem with it, and it is this:
If it's all virtual, then why wear cycling clothes?
Seriously, isn't all this stuff optimized for propelling a bicycle forward while being outside? Seems to me that aerodynamics mean nothing here and cooling is everything. I mean what's with the sleeves? Have they never seen a SoulCycle class?
Indeed, at the pro level it would probably make the most sense to compete "Full Cipo" for maximum cooling, with perhaps the judicious application of some small taintal pad to protect the perineum--and if virtual racing really is the future I may start selling a new product called the "Stand-Alone Chamois:"
Just add a light adhesive and you're off (virtually) to the races.
Oh, and one other thing bothers me about this whole thing:
Why hold the races in a velodrome?
Isn't that like going to a movie theater to stream Netflix on a tablet?
I mean really, you're already in the clothes, and you've already got the bike, and there's a perfectly good track 20 feet away, so why not just...oh, never mind.
Sounds like thrilling viewing:
In September, Garcia held his third race at the National Velodrome in Paris. The tournament featured a prize purse of $44,735, paid in part by Garcia and through donations — fans that tuned into the broadcast submitted cash through online transactions to boost the prize pot. Similar to the previous competitions, every athlete had a camera pointed at them throughout the racing.
If you can't get enough of sweaty people wincing in a non-sexual context then clearly this is the spectator sport for you.
By the way, speaking of competitive pedaling without going anywhere, whatever happened to roller racing? It was having a big comeback until everyone gave up on track bikes and defected to gravel bikes:
Oh, well, it was fun boring while it lasted.
In any case, as long as pro bike racers are desperate for money there will be no shortage of virtual cycling competitors, which means the future of the sport is all but assured:
“For $100,000, I’ll do any bike race, any format, it’s all suffering one in the same,” said Jelly Belly rider Ben Wolfe.
For $50 he'll also help you move.
And even USA Cycling, that most desperate of sports governing bodies, is in the "early stages" of exploring it:
UCI representatives did not respond to queries about any future relationships with CVR. USA Cycling provided a statement that said any plans between the governing body and Zwift are “still in the early stages.”
“We are exploring engaging new ways to collaborate that offer more value to our core racers as well as bring new riders into the sport,” the statement said.
USA Cycling should probably just stop with the bike racing and pivot to becoming a moving company already.
March 9, 2018
Riding Up Escalators Is The New Skitching
When last we met, I'd appended the following video to the end of my post:
And I now see that this video has made the local news down there in the Miami area:
Welch said he is not mad at the driver, who stayed at the scene, and helped him get medical care. He said he posted the video of the accident on YouTube to make others aware.
"Here we have a chance to educate drivers and also educate cyclists," Welch said. "I won't let somebody else's mistake like this one hurt me again in the future. I will be extra vigilant."
This is a commendable conclusion to draw.
Anyway, various people weighed in with their analyses of the collision, and as is invariably the case at least some of these comments had an undercurrent of "this sort of thing would never happen to me"-type smugness. In a way it's a cousin to the "Minnesota Humblebrag," and a good name for it might be "Vehicular Cyclist Exceptionalism." After all, as we've seen before, only the VC adherents have the secret knowledge which enables them to move through American traffic unscathed. To wit:
Scott B. said...
Motorist should have signaled and merged. No vehicle—cyclist in this case—should ever pass on the right.
This appears to be the consensus on this thread. I only mention it again because all of this is vehicular cycling orthodoxy. It's plainly true in this case, and Bike Snob is misdirecting us with his complaint that the motorist didn't look—which is the least useful thing to say about this eminently preventable accident.
MARCH 7, 2018 AT 9:27 PM
Now, as I pointed out in the comments, I do agree that the cyclist in this case was going too fast. Certainly also when riding between traffic and a curb with driveways one should always be prepared for a squeeze, and it took two wrongs to make this collision collabo go down. Nevertheless, I maintain that the fact that the motorist didn't look is in fact the most useful thing to say about this "eminently preventable accident," for when one knows that motorists often don't look one can then adjust one's riding style appropriately. Specifically, one can make a point of riding at a prudent speed in places where motorists and pedestrians are wont to enter the bike lane unexpectedly.
Conversely, saying that no cyclist "should ever pass on the right" is not useful at all. Moreover, it's just plain wrong. Look at this configuration, with the bike lane on the right and the motor vehicle lane on the left:
Are we really to believe that a cyclist should never pass a car while riding in the bike lane on this roadway? Should he or she instead cross over and pass on the left in all circumstances? I think not.
As for the incident itself, if the cyclist had been riding more cautiously he may very well have been able to avoid the collision, but given the manner in which this driver turned across the bike lane without signaling it's also quite possible he might have right-hooked even the most cautious and alert cyclist:
Unless of course that cyclist was a Vehicular Cyclist, because they and drivers share a special mind-melding relationship:
By the way, it's worth noting that even "expert" cyclists have managed to get themselves taken out in exactly the same way:
One crucial difference here is that the driver did signal:
Also, Lucas Brunelle's humblebrags are in a category all their own:
Lucas Brunelle
Published on Nov 12, 2014
I was taught how to crash at the Olympic Training center and it paid off, here I actually ended up on my feet
Well, maybe not completely on their own:
I wonder if they received the same crash training.
By the way, it appears that Brunelle has relocated to Miami, so maybe that was actually him in the first video after all:
He's also grown so desperate for new thrills that he's now riding up escalators:
I'm not impressed unless they do it in Crocs:
I think he just found himself a new sponsor.
And I now see that this video has made the local news down there in the Miami area:
Welch said he is not mad at the driver, who stayed at the scene, and helped him get medical care. He said he posted the video of the accident on YouTube to make others aware.
"Here we have a chance to educate drivers and also educate cyclists," Welch said. "I won't let somebody else's mistake like this one hurt me again in the future. I will be extra vigilant."
This is a commendable conclusion to draw.
Anyway, various people weighed in with their analyses of the collision, and as is invariably the case at least some of these comments had an undercurrent of "this sort of thing would never happen to me"-type smugness. In a way it's a cousin to the "Minnesota Humblebrag," and a good name for it might be "Vehicular Cyclist Exceptionalism." After all, as we've seen before, only the VC adherents have the secret knowledge which enables them to move through American traffic unscathed. To wit:
Scott B. said...
Motorist should have signaled and merged. No vehicle—cyclist in this case—should ever pass on the right.
This appears to be the consensus on this thread. I only mention it again because all of this is vehicular cycling orthodoxy. It's plainly true in this case, and Bike Snob is misdirecting us with his complaint that the motorist didn't look—which is the least useful thing to say about this eminently preventable accident.
MARCH 7, 2018 AT 9:27 PM
Now, as I pointed out in the comments, I do agree that the cyclist in this case was going too fast. Certainly also when riding between traffic and a curb with driveways one should always be prepared for a squeeze, and it took two wrongs to make this collision collabo go down. Nevertheless, I maintain that the fact that the motorist didn't look is in fact the most useful thing to say about this "eminently preventable accident," for when one knows that motorists often don't look one can then adjust one's riding style appropriately. Specifically, one can make a point of riding at a prudent speed in places where motorists and pedestrians are wont to enter the bike lane unexpectedly.
Conversely, saying that no cyclist "should ever pass on the right" is not useful at all. Moreover, it's just plain wrong. Look at this configuration, with the bike lane on the right and the motor vehicle lane on the left:
Are we really to believe that a cyclist should never pass a car while riding in the bike lane on this roadway? Should he or she instead cross over and pass on the left in all circumstances? I think not.
As for the incident itself, if the cyclist had been riding more cautiously he may very well have been able to avoid the collision, but given the manner in which this driver turned across the bike lane without signaling it's also quite possible he might have right-hooked even the most cautious and alert cyclist:
Unless of course that cyclist was a Vehicular Cyclist, because they and drivers share a special mind-melding relationship:
By the way, it's worth noting that even "expert" cyclists have managed to get themselves taken out in exactly the same way:
One crucial difference here is that the driver did signal:
Also, Lucas Brunelle's humblebrags are in a category all their own:
Lucas Brunelle
Published on Nov 12, 2014
I was taught how to crash at the Olympic Training center and it paid off, here I actually ended up on my feet
Well, maybe not completely on their own:
I wonder if they received the same crash training.
By the way, it appears that Brunelle has relocated to Miami, so maybe that was actually him in the first video after all:
He's also grown so desperate for new thrills that he's now riding up escalators:
I'm not impressed unless they do it in Crocs:
I think he just found himself a new sponsor.
March 7, 2018
Putting the "Pro" in Pro Bono
Well the snowstorm they've been promising is arriving in fits and starts:
And I'm also curating the vomitorial stylings of a sick three year-old:
Which can only mean one thing...my training is in serious jeopardy!
Just kidding:
No, I'm not that far gone--though I do keep a training journal:
At this point however it's developing into a real "The Shining" situation:
Yeah, things are getting really creepy in my household:
I realize this is the sort of situation that drives people to Zwift, but last time I messed around with virtual reality things got weird fast:
Hey, we've all been there, right?
Speaking of cinema, you may recall that back in January this guy I know who used to race bikes invited me to a screening of the documentary, "Icarus," where my wife and I found ourselves in thrilling proximity to the back of Neil deGrasse Tyson's head:
What can I say? It's just the sort of glamorous lifestyle we lead.
Anyway, the venerable and esteemed commenter Leroy's Dog informs me that the attorney who represents Russian doping doctor Grigory Rodchenkov in the film, one Jim Walden, Esq.:
(Not Jim Walden, that's the 1-800-LAWYERS guy. I'm afraid if I use a photo of Jim Walden he'll send me one of those "Seasoned Insist" letters...though now I'll probably get sued by Mustache Guy.)
Is the very same lawyer who represented the NIMBY alliance who attempted to litigate the Prospect Park West bike lane in Brooklyn out of existence:
Neighbors for Better Bike Lanes — which includes Schumer’s wife, the former Transportation Commissioner Iris Weinshall, and former Sanitation Commissioner Norman Steisel — says it “plans to file suit” over a cycle path that it says was installed based on incorrect information by an agency that intentionally ignored the facts.
And here’s where the plot thickens: The group’s pro-bono attorney is none other than Schumer campaign contributor Jim Walden, whose name was tossed around in 2009 as a possible U.S. Attorney, though the job ultimately went to another Schumer ally.
He also offered to help Community Board 8 on the Upper East Side fight the Queensboro Bridge bike lane project:
Jim Walden, who has long fought the Prospect Park West bike lane on behalf of opponents, sent an e-mail to Community Board 8 offering assistance.
UPPER EAST SIDE — Days after the city announced plans to bolster bicycle paths near the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge, the lawyer representing opponents of the controversial Prospect Park West bike lane offered to help Upper East Side locals opposed to the proposal.
Jim Walden, who represents "two community groups opposed to the two-way, parking protected bike lane on Prospect Park West in Brooklyn" pro bono, fired off an e-mail to members of Community Board 8 offering assistance, DNAinfo.com New York has learned.
And he even bravely represented some more NIMBYs in SoHo in their lawsuit to fight the installation of a Citi Bike rack.
Now, I won't call him a giant oily douche because that's no doubt slander or defamation of character or some other term I've seen used in the movies (it's definitely slander against douches, anyway), but is it admissible to call him an alleged giant oily douche?
Just asking.
Anyway, with Icarus having one the Academic Award in a weird way I suppose something or other has come full circle.
Finally, here's your Right Hook of the Day:
It's always "I didn't see you," isn't it?
And I'm also curating the vomitorial stylings of a sick three year-old:
Which can only mean one thing...my training is in serious jeopardy!
Just kidding:
No, I'm not that far gone--though I do keep a training journal:
At this point however it's developing into a real "The Shining" situation:
Yeah, things are getting really creepy in my household:
I realize this is the sort of situation that drives people to Zwift, but last time I messed around with virtual reality things got weird fast:
Hey, we've all been there, right?
Speaking of cinema, you may recall that back in January this guy I know who used to race bikes invited me to a screening of the documentary, "Icarus," where my wife and I found ourselves in thrilling proximity to the back of Neil deGrasse Tyson's head:
What can I say? It's just the sort of glamorous lifestyle we lead.
Anyway, the venerable and esteemed commenter Leroy's Dog informs me that the attorney who represents Russian doping doctor Grigory Rodchenkov in the film, one Jim Walden, Esq.:
(Not Jim Walden, that's the 1-800-LAWYERS guy. I'm afraid if I use a photo of Jim Walden he'll send me one of those "Seasoned Insist" letters...though now I'll probably get sued by Mustache Guy.)
Is the very same lawyer who represented the NIMBY alliance who attempted to litigate the Prospect Park West bike lane in Brooklyn out of existence:
Neighbors for Better Bike Lanes — which includes Schumer’s wife, the former Transportation Commissioner Iris Weinshall, and former Sanitation Commissioner Norman Steisel — says it “plans to file suit” over a cycle path that it says was installed based on incorrect information by an agency that intentionally ignored the facts.
And here’s where the plot thickens: The group’s pro-bono attorney is none other than Schumer campaign contributor Jim Walden, whose name was tossed around in 2009 as a possible U.S. Attorney, though the job ultimately went to another Schumer ally.
He also offered to help Community Board 8 on the Upper East Side fight the Queensboro Bridge bike lane project:
Jim Walden, who has long fought the Prospect Park West bike lane on behalf of opponents, sent an e-mail to Community Board 8 offering assistance.
UPPER EAST SIDE — Days after the city announced plans to bolster bicycle paths near the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge, the lawyer representing opponents of the controversial Prospect Park West bike lane offered to help Upper East Side locals opposed to the proposal.
Jim Walden, who represents "two community groups opposed to the two-way, parking protected bike lane on Prospect Park West in Brooklyn" pro bono, fired off an e-mail to members of Community Board 8 offering assistance, DNAinfo.com New York has learned.
And he even bravely represented some more NIMBYs in SoHo in their lawsuit to fight the installation of a Citi Bike rack.
Now, I won't call him a giant oily douche because that's no doubt slander or defamation of character or some other term I've seen used in the movies (it's definitely slander against douches, anyway), but is it admissible to call him an alleged giant oily douche?
Just asking.
Anyway, with Icarus having one the Academic Award in a weird way I suppose something or other has come full circle.
Finally, here's your Right Hook of the Day:
It's always "I didn't see you," isn't it?
March 6, 2018
Sweet and Savory
Good morning! This is just a quick note to let you know that my latest column for Outside is up, and you'll be either pleased, incensed, or indifferent to find that I've set aside more important themes in favor of some whimsy:
I didn't mention that you should always wear a helmet when dating a non-cyclist, but I assumed that was obvious.
And don't worry, if it's too saccharine for you, you can always head on over to the Bike Forecast where today's post will crush your spirit into a thousand tiny bits and ruin your day.
You're welcome!
Until later,
I remain,
Yours and so forth,
--Wildcat Etc.
I didn't mention that you should always wear a helmet when dating a non-cyclist, but I assumed that was obvious.
And don't worry, if it's too saccharine for you, you can always head on over to the Bike Forecast where today's post will crush your spirit into a thousand tiny bits and ruin your day.
You're welcome!
Until later,
I remain,
Yours and so forth,
--Wildcat Etc.
March 5, 2018
It's Not Really A Comeback If You Never Got Anywhere In The First Place
When it comes to cycling, New York City can be heaven and it can be hell. You know all about our bike share program and our still-expanding network of bike lanes. You also know about the NYPD's "no criminality suspected" approach to dealing with drivers who run down cyclists. What you may not know is that, when it comes to bike racing, this city is a veritable paradise.
Beginning in March, you can ride to a bike race pretty much every single week, and you can keep this up until September. Of course there are long-standing crits such as Grant's Tomb and the Harlem Skyscraper, and the Tuesday night series on the old runway at Floyd Bennett Field, and even the track races at Kissena Velodrome. But the bread and butter, the meat and potatoes, the sour cream and borscht of the racing scene are the races in Central and Prospect Parks.
As you know if you suffered through my exhaustive profile in CyclingTips, I am a veteran of those park races. From my first foray I was hooked, and in a burst of enthusiasm and River Road hill repeats I managed to accumulate just enough points to upgrade to Cat 3, after which I never saw the front of the pack again. Still, I was out there week after week and year after year, and my role as New York City pack fodder very much defined my cycling identity and worldview.
Eventually however my life changed. First, I became a world famous and deeply revered bicycle blogger. Then I became a father, and after that I moved to the Bronx, from whence I could no longer roll out of bed and into Prospect Park for a 6am start time. I could, however, easily access dirt trails, and so I transitioned to a lifestyle of fat tires and cutoffs:
This was a refreshing change, and for years I didn't look back. However, once a Fred always a Fred, and to my surprise I recently found myself pining for the the pack. So this year I renewed my USAC license for the first time since 2014 and joined the local racing club, and this past Saturday I rolled on down to Central Park for a 6:25am start.
The weather in the days leading up to the race was delightful:
But then on Friday we got slammed with an onslaught of rain, snow, and wind that laid waste the the area and caused power outages that continue as I type this. By the wee hours of Saturday morning the storm had blown over, but it was still cold and blustery, and the streets were full of tree branches and mutilated umbrellas. A lesser Fred would have shut off the alarm when it sounded at 4am, but I awoke ten minutes before it even went off, ready to throw myself back into the arena of futility.
My original plan was to race the Renovo Aerowood:
However, I pivoted on race morning for the following reasons:
It was really windy, and while I love riding the Renovo it just doesn't feel quite as "planted" (see what I did there?) as my other road bikes. I don't know if it's the geometry, or the aerodynamic profile, or the 23mm tires, or some combination of the three. Maybe it's just my psychological reaction to riding a really expensive bike. Regardless of the reason, between the blustery conditions and my own rustiness I wanted as much stability as possible;It was wet out, and my other bike already had fenders;I was almost certain I'd get dropped, and I didn't want to be the guy who gets spat out the back on a $10,000 bicycleAnd instead I ended up going with the Ritte Rust Bucket:
(It's almost as rusty as I am.)
Not only was the bike completely filthy, but I also made sure to leave both the saddlebag and the fenders on for the race so that as the pack excreted me it would be clear that I didn't take any of this too seriously. (Even though if I'm to be perfectly honest I'm a Fred at heart so of course I take all of this incredibly seriously.)
Rolling out in the pitch black when it's 30-something degrees and windy is never easy, but there's also nothing like riding through the streets of New York in the Hour of the Wolf:
'The hour of the wolf is the hour between night and dawn. It is the hour when most people die, when sleep is the deepest, when nightmares feel most real. It is the hour when the demons are most powerful. The hour of the wolf is also the hour when most children are born.'
Think of it as the Hour of the Fred: when Freds and Fredericas from all corners of the city converge on the park, huddle over a registration table, and pin on numbers in the dark. New York City is never truly quiet, but at this time of the morning it's as quiet as it gets, with most of the revelers having finally turned in or passed out, and the diurnal set not yet having awoken. Certainly as a cyclist it's the very best time to feel as though you've got the streets to yourself.
In any case, we lined up as the sun rose, and we set off under its very first rays. While I've been putting in a fair number of miles recently the fact is I haven't experienced anything like sustained race pace in years. Had I approached this properly I'd have at least done a few group rides during the preceding weeks, but sadly those don't work very well since I keep "writer's hours" and do most of my riding on weekdays. So as I clipped in I wondered what would happen.
The race was six laps around Central Park. For the first lap I sat somewhere in the middle of the pack and thought, "Hey, I feel pretty good!" By the second lap I realized I was now at the back and that, while I still felt pretty comfortable, I didn't quite feel like using the energy to move up into a safer position. (Unlike Max von Sydow above I had but a few matches to burn.) By the third lap I realized I probably wasn't going to be able to hang, and I believe it was the fourth time up Harlem Hill that I finally tripped the circuit breaker in my legs and slipped off the back like it was slathered in Vaseline.
I was done.
Though a bit disappointed I was mostly sanguine, and I casually rolled over to the start/finish area to hang out and watch the Fred Parade:
Finally I headed back uptown, and I was home and contentedly stuffing my face before most people have even begun their day, which is maybe the best thing about racing in the park--well that and the park itself, because there are few things more satisfying than a spirited gallop through the heart of Manhattan.
Anyway, we'll see if I can eventually claw my way out of this hole and finally pass a race again, but if not there's always a pair of cutoffs with my name on them.
Beginning in March, you can ride to a bike race pretty much every single week, and you can keep this up until September. Of course there are long-standing crits such as Grant's Tomb and the Harlem Skyscraper, and the Tuesday night series on the old runway at Floyd Bennett Field, and even the track races at Kissena Velodrome. But the bread and butter, the meat and potatoes, the sour cream and borscht of the racing scene are the races in Central and Prospect Parks.
As you know if you suffered through my exhaustive profile in CyclingTips, I am a veteran of those park races. From my first foray I was hooked, and in a burst of enthusiasm and River Road hill repeats I managed to accumulate just enough points to upgrade to Cat 3, after which I never saw the front of the pack again. Still, I was out there week after week and year after year, and my role as New York City pack fodder very much defined my cycling identity and worldview.
Eventually however my life changed. First, I became a world famous and deeply revered bicycle blogger. Then I became a father, and after that I moved to the Bronx, from whence I could no longer roll out of bed and into Prospect Park for a 6am start time. I could, however, easily access dirt trails, and so I transitioned to a lifestyle of fat tires and cutoffs:
This was a refreshing change, and for years I didn't look back. However, once a Fred always a Fred, and to my surprise I recently found myself pining for the the pack. So this year I renewed my USAC license for the first time since 2014 and joined the local racing club, and this past Saturday I rolled on down to Central Park for a 6:25am start.
The weather in the days leading up to the race was delightful:
But then on Friday we got slammed with an onslaught of rain, snow, and wind that laid waste the the area and caused power outages that continue as I type this. By the wee hours of Saturday morning the storm had blown over, but it was still cold and blustery, and the streets were full of tree branches and mutilated umbrellas. A lesser Fred would have shut off the alarm when it sounded at 4am, but I awoke ten minutes before it even went off, ready to throw myself back into the arena of futility.
My original plan was to race the Renovo Aerowood:
However, I pivoted on race morning for the following reasons:
It was really windy, and while I love riding the Renovo it just doesn't feel quite as "planted" (see what I did there?) as my other road bikes. I don't know if it's the geometry, or the aerodynamic profile, or the 23mm tires, or some combination of the three. Maybe it's just my psychological reaction to riding a really expensive bike. Regardless of the reason, between the blustery conditions and my own rustiness I wanted as much stability as possible;It was wet out, and my other bike already had fenders;I was almost certain I'd get dropped, and I didn't want to be the guy who gets spat out the back on a $10,000 bicycleAnd instead I ended up going with the Ritte Rust Bucket:
(It's almost as rusty as I am.)
Not only was the bike completely filthy, but I also made sure to leave both the saddlebag and the fenders on for the race so that as the pack excreted me it would be clear that I didn't take any of this too seriously. (Even though if I'm to be perfectly honest I'm a Fred at heart so of course I take all of this incredibly seriously.)
Rolling out in the pitch black when it's 30-something degrees and windy is never easy, but there's also nothing like riding through the streets of New York in the Hour of the Wolf:
'The hour of the wolf is the hour between night and dawn. It is the hour when most people die, when sleep is the deepest, when nightmares feel most real. It is the hour when the demons are most powerful. The hour of the wolf is also the hour when most children are born.'
Think of it as the Hour of the Fred: when Freds and Fredericas from all corners of the city converge on the park, huddle over a registration table, and pin on numbers in the dark. New York City is never truly quiet, but at this time of the morning it's as quiet as it gets, with most of the revelers having finally turned in or passed out, and the diurnal set not yet having awoken. Certainly as a cyclist it's the very best time to feel as though you've got the streets to yourself.
In any case, we lined up as the sun rose, and we set off under its very first rays. While I've been putting in a fair number of miles recently the fact is I haven't experienced anything like sustained race pace in years. Had I approached this properly I'd have at least done a few group rides during the preceding weeks, but sadly those don't work very well since I keep "writer's hours" and do most of my riding on weekdays. So as I clipped in I wondered what would happen.
The race was six laps around Central Park. For the first lap I sat somewhere in the middle of the pack and thought, "Hey, I feel pretty good!" By the second lap I realized I was now at the back and that, while I still felt pretty comfortable, I didn't quite feel like using the energy to move up into a safer position. (Unlike Max von Sydow above I had but a few matches to burn.) By the third lap I realized I probably wasn't going to be able to hang, and I believe it was the fourth time up Harlem Hill that I finally tripped the circuit breaker in my legs and slipped off the back like it was slathered in Vaseline.
I was done.
Though a bit disappointed I was mostly sanguine, and I casually rolled over to the start/finish area to hang out and watch the Fred Parade:
Finally I headed back uptown, and I was home and contentedly stuffing my face before most people have even begun their day, which is maybe the best thing about racing in the park--well that and the park itself, because there are few things more satisfying than a spirited gallop through the heart of Manhattan.
Anyway, we'll see if I can eventually claw my way out of this hole and finally pass a race again, but if not there's always a pair of cutoffs with my name on them.
March 2, 2018
Coyote Fredly
Firstly, there's a lot going on in today's Bike Forecast, including a spate of coyote attacks just north of the city to which I was alerted by Leroy's Dog:
Police say around 2 p.m. Thursday, a coyote attacked a woman riding a bicycle on South County Trailway.
It missed her, biting her back tire instead.
I hope she was running tubeless.
Anyway, most of the places described in the story are along the route of my my usual 20-miler, which means it's time for me to invest in some new riding gear:
What, no helmet?
By the way, the aforementioned post also addresses the media-hyped specter of the "distracted pedestrian," which is no doubt a thing, but which also hardly warrants mentioning given all the mayhem caused by distracted driving:
That is fucking horrifying.
I will however acknowledge the problem of the distracted consumer, for this very morning I was shopping at Target and upon arriving home with my spoils discovered I was short a bag. This compelled me to schlep all the way back to Target, at which point the security (or "asset protection") person called up my transaction on the video camera and I got to watch a birds-eye view of myself tapping away at my smartphone while the checkout person bagged my items. Then I watched myself hastily grab the bags without paying attention and walk away.
Fortunately my distraction only cost me a return trip to Target and about an hour of my life as opposed to, you know, my life.
I am now of the opinion that every moment of every day should be recorded on video, privacy be damned, and that human evolution will one day arrive at a point were this omniscient collective digital memory ensures that absolutely every mistake we make can ultimately be put right.
Also something about blockchain.
Secondly, I'd like to take a moment to lament the sorry state of society, the ongoing decay of our moral fiber, and the inevitable demise of humanity it clearly portends:
See, we're being rained and hailed upon at the moment, but the past few days in New York have been ideal, and I've been spending a fair amount of time on the West Side Greenway in Manhattan--which, it turns out, is a good thing given all those coyote attacks up north:
The West Side Greenway is, I believe, the most heavily-trafficked bikeway in the country (though I'm far too lazy to confirm that), and on a day like the one depicted above you will find all manner of riders upon it--everyone from the sightseeing Citi Biker to the forward-leaning tridork. (Even though in the above photo it looks completely empty, go figure.) Anyway, on one of my excursions I happened to incur a flat tire, so I unfurled my artisinal tool roll and got to work:
It should go without saying that I, a world-renowned cycling word curator, was fully equipped with both the tools necessary to complete the operation as well as the vast knowledge and experience to do so expeditiously. Nevertheless, I was dismayed--no, disgusted really--that not a single rider so much as slowed down to ask if I was okay. See, I may scoff at certain cycling conventions (I can't stand "on your left" and I couldn't give a shit whether you wave to me or not), but when you see someone stopped and futzing with their bike you should at least feather a brake and ask if they need anything. See, even the most competent cyclist occasionally opens his or her saddle bag to find that they forgot to restock the patches or that their valve stem ate through their tube, and your simple act of courtesy could be the difference between them making it to their dental appointment or not. (I just so happened to be on the way to the dentist.)
Basically what I'm saying is you should all be deeply ashamed of yourselves.
Finally, here's a PSA about the importance of wearing a helmet in the office:
Don't be a statistic...you never know when the tension spring on a desk lamp is going to fail and clobber you into oblivion.
Police say around 2 p.m. Thursday, a coyote attacked a woman riding a bicycle on South County Trailway.
It missed her, biting her back tire instead.
I hope she was running tubeless.
Anyway, most of the places described in the story are along the route of my my usual 20-miler, which means it's time for me to invest in some new riding gear:
What, no helmet?
By the way, the aforementioned post also addresses the media-hyped specter of the "distracted pedestrian," which is no doubt a thing, but which also hardly warrants mentioning given all the mayhem caused by distracted driving:
That is fucking horrifying.
I will however acknowledge the problem of the distracted consumer, for this very morning I was shopping at Target and upon arriving home with my spoils discovered I was short a bag. This compelled me to schlep all the way back to Target, at which point the security (or "asset protection") person called up my transaction on the video camera and I got to watch a birds-eye view of myself tapping away at my smartphone while the checkout person bagged my items. Then I watched myself hastily grab the bags without paying attention and walk away.
Fortunately my distraction only cost me a return trip to Target and about an hour of my life as opposed to, you know, my life.
I am now of the opinion that every moment of every day should be recorded on video, privacy be damned, and that human evolution will one day arrive at a point were this omniscient collective digital memory ensures that absolutely every mistake we make can ultimately be put right.
Also something about blockchain.
Secondly, I'd like to take a moment to lament the sorry state of society, the ongoing decay of our moral fiber, and the inevitable demise of humanity it clearly portends:
See, we're being rained and hailed upon at the moment, but the past few days in New York have been ideal, and I've been spending a fair amount of time on the West Side Greenway in Manhattan--which, it turns out, is a good thing given all those coyote attacks up north:
The West Side Greenway is, I believe, the most heavily-trafficked bikeway in the country (though I'm far too lazy to confirm that), and on a day like the one depicted above you will find all manner of riders upon it--everyone from the sightseeing Citi Biker to the forward-leaning tridork. (Even though in the above photo it looks completely empty, go figure.) Anyway, on one of my excursions I happened to incur a flat tire, so I unfurled my artisinal tool roll and got to work:
It should go without saying that I, a world-renowned cycling word curator, was fully equipped with both the tools necessary to complete the operation as well as the vast knowledge and experience to do so expeditiously. Nevertheless, I was dismayed--no, disgusted really--that not a single rider so much as slowed down to ask if I was okay. See, I may scoff at certain cycling conventions (I can't stand "on your left" and I couldn't give a shit whether you wave to me or not), but when you see someone stopped and futzing with their bike you should at least feather a brake and ask if they need anything. See, even the most competent cyclist occasionally opens his or her saddle bag to find that they forgot to restock the patches or that their valve stem ate through their tube, and your simple act of courtesy could be the difference between them making it to their dental appointment or not. (I just so happened to be on the way to the dentist.)
Basically what I'm saying is you should all be deeply ashamed of yourselves.
Finally, here's a PSA about the importance of wearing a helmet in the office:
Don't be a statistic...you never know when the tension spring on a desk lamp is going to fail and clobber you into oblivion.
February 28, 2018
Just Popping In For A Sec
Hello!
Wow, what time is it? I have no idea. It's like I live in a sensory deprivation tank these days.
Anyway, just a couple quick things. Firstly, I've got a new column up on the Outside web presence:
Sure, you may have had it up to your helmet strap with the subject of helmets, but I daresay reading this is worth it for the story of the McDonough Street Terror alone:
They say when the wind blows right in that part of Brooklyn you can catch the ghostly stench of his sweaty tweed.
Secondly, the age of the urban fat bike has arrived:
I bet that thing eats cobbles like they're Tic Tacs.
Wow, what time is it? I have no idea. It's like I live in a sensory deprivation tank these days.
Anyway, just a couple quick things. Firstly, I've got a new column up on the Outside web presence:
Sure, you may have had it up to your helmet strap with the subject of helmets, but I daresay reading this is worth it for the story of the McDonough Street Terror alone:
They say when the wind blows right in that part of Brooklyn you can catch the ghostly stench of his sweaty tweed.
Secondly, the age of the urban fat bike has arrived:
I bet that thing eats cobbles like they're Tic Tacs.
February 27, 2018
Lifetime Achievement
Well, I must be about to retire or die, because CyclingTips have just run pretty much the entire story of my life:
Spare a thought, won't you, for my interviewer Peter Flax, who had to endure two (2) brutal hours on the phone with me:
His name is Eben Weiss, but most cyclists know him better as Bike Snob, a lacerating blogger and book author who has spent a decade taking aim at everything from the absurdity of fixie culture and the consumerist excess of roadies to the overearnest nature of racing fans and the slippery charm of Mario Cipollini. Contributor Peter Flax spent two hours on the phone with Weiss, discussing his early riding life, his emergence as a sort of cycling comedian, and his more recent pivot into advocacy. Here are highlights of that wide-ranging interview, presented in Weiss’ own words.
If you're on Twitter, here's his handle, so you might want to ask him #whatpressureyourunning when you're bored to death.
Anyway, many thanks to Peter and to Neal Rogers for making the best of what was clearly a very slow news day, and special thanks to my son Elliott who took that photo of me. (Clearly he got his sick bike-handling skills from me, but the keen photographic eye must have come from his mom.)
Moving on, it's a beautiful day, and so in the spirt of being the very best cycling blogger I can be I said "Fuck that" and went out for a bike ride this morning--nothing special, just my usual 20-miler:
I'd have gotten out earlier but I decided to change the saddle on the wood bike. See, it came with this Selle Italia job:
And while it wasn't causing me any scranial problems or anything like that I wasn't crazy about it, not least of all because it's got a cutout in it:
(If you read the CyclingTips feature you know I'm now a serious writer now, so I won't point out that this saddle looks a little bit like a vagina.)
Hey, what can I say? When it comes to the road bikes I like my cleats fixed and my saddles solid, it's just the way I am. So I switched it for this one, which in my opinion did at least as much for the bike's appearance as it did for my personal comfort:
See how the black and white colourwhey picks up the accents on the crabon fribé bar/stem combo?
Sure you do.
Of course changing a saddle is one of those things you always think is going to take five minutes but in reality ends up taking an hour because you've got to get everything just so, and that's what happened to me. Otherwise I'd have been back earlier--or, more likely, ridden another ten miles.
Speaking of this bike, you'll recall that I'm allowed to ride it in accordance with the terms of my New Year's Resolution, and if you're wondering how that's been going here's your answer:
It also continues to be quite fun to ride, and with spring imminent I plan to really put this bike to the test and subject it to all manner of Feats of Fredness, for with its crabon wheels, lavish appearance and hefty price tag it is the wood-hewn embodiment of the mid-Fred crisis I'm currently experiencing.
So click on the crickets, read the CyclingTips article, and before you know it you'll be taking a refreshing nap.
You're welcome.
Spare a thought, won't you, for my interviewer Peter Flax, who had to endure two (2) brutal hours on the phone with me:
His name is Eben Weiss, but most cyclists know him better as Bike Snob, a lacerating blogger and book author who has spent a decade taking aim at everything from the absurdity of fixie culture and the consumerist excess of roadies to the overearnest nature of racing fans and the slippery charm of Mario Cipollini. Contributor Peter Flax spent two hours on the phone with Weiss, discussing his early riding life, his emergence as a sort of cycling comedian, and his more recent pivot into advocacy. Here are highlights of that wide-ranging interview, presented in Weiss’ own words.
If you're on Twitter, here's his handle, so you might want to ask him #whatpressureyourunning when you're bored to death.
Anyway, many thanks to Peter and to Neal Rogers for making the best of what was clearly a very slow news day, and special thanks to my son Elliott who took that photo of me. (Clearly he got his sick bike-handling skills from me, but the keen photographic eye must have come from his mom.)
Moving on, it's a beautiful day, and so in the spirt of being the very best cycling blogger I can be I said "Fuck that" and went out for a bike ride this morning--nothing special, just my usual 20-miler:
I'd have gotten out earlier but I decided to change the saddle on the wood bike. See, it came with this Selle Italia job:
And while it wasn't causing me any scranial problems or anything like that I wasn't crazy about it, not least of all because it's got a cutout in it:
(If you read the CyclingTips feature you know I'm now a serious writer now, so I won't point out that this saddle looks a little bit like a vagina.)
Hey, what can I say? When it comes to the road bikes I like my cleats fixed and my saddles solid, it's just the way I am. So I switched it for this one, which in my opinion did at least as much for the bike's appearance as it did for my personal comfort:
See how the black and white colourwhey picks up the accents on the crabon fribé bar/stem combo?
Sure you do.
Of course changing a saddle is one of those things you always think is going to take five minutes but in reality ends up taking an hour because you've got to get everything just so, and that's what happened to me. Otherwise I'd have been back earlier--or, more likely, ridden another ten miles.
Speaking of this bike, you'll recall that I'm allowed to ride it in accordance with the terms of my New Year's Resolution, and if you're wondering how that's been going here's your answer:
It also continues to be quite fun to ride, and with spring imminent I plan to really put this bike to the test and subject it to all manner of Feats of Fredness, for with its crabon wheels, lavish appearance and hefty price tag it is the wood-hewn embodiment of the mid-Fred crisis I'm currently experiencing.
So click on the crickets, read the CyclingTips article, and before you know it you'll be taking a refreshing nap.
You're welcome.
February 25, 2018
Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?
First things firstly, here's a new Outside column in which I solve all society's problems yet again:
If only kids spent more time on bikes then maybe they'd finally give up pernicious pursuits such as listening to rock music, disrespecting their elders, and wearing sneakers and dungarees.
I mean really, calling politicians on their bullshit in the wake of the Parkland shooting after governmental lack of action has led directly to the deaths of their friends and family members? Such impudence!
Speaking of which, last week I mentioned that some of cycling's best-known brands are owned by an ammunition maker:
As it happens, at the moment I own two (2) bicycling helmets (helments). One is a Giro Atmos, and one is an inexpensive Bell I purchased as a "gap helmet" to use until I got around to replacing the broken "Roc Loc" thingy on the aforementioned Giro (and in the process realized there's virtually no difference in comfort between a cheap helmet and an expensive one). This puts me in a bind. On one hand, I don't like guns, so I prefer not to display either logo given the current climate. On the other hand, I don't like helmets, so I don't want to support the Foam Hat Industrial Complex by purchasing a new one.
Oh sure, the answer might seem simple: "Just don't wear a helmet, done and done." Well, it's not that simple. See, while I spend plenty of my riding time exposing my balding pate to the melanoma-giving rays of the sun, I'm also a recovering Fred in the throes of a midlife Fred crisis, as well as a world-famous semi-professional cycling scribe. This means there are certain times when I have to wear a helmet. Consider, for example, that last summer I took part in the Brompton World Championships:
Foam hats were compulsory for the event, and who am I to argue? Bike racing is inherently stupid, and a crucial part of that stupidity is unquestioning adherence to rules, whatever they may be. So whether the rules say to wear a helmet, or to don a blazer, or even to be conformingly irreverent (as is the case with the various singlespeed world championships), you just do it, no questions asked.
The point is, I reserve the right to participate in organized cycling events, and when I do I have no problem wearing the required headgear. At the same time, I refuse to "upgrade" my helmetry at this point simply to avoid displaying a tainted brand, since discarding a hunk of non-biodegradable foam at fixed intervals and purchasing a new one seems not only wasteful but ridiculous.
So clearly there's only one option for me, and that's to fashion a helmet out of a coconut:
Khum Wongsaeng, 73, a Chiang Mai resident is taking part and has modified a coconut shell as a bicycle helmet. He has ridden from Chiang Mai to Bangkok more than four times and said that he is still fit. A foreigner wanted to buy his coconut shell helmet for 5,000 baht but he refused as the coconut shell helmet had saved his life once before.
It's a scientific fact that if you survive any sort of incident your survival is entirely due to whatever you happened to be wearing on your head at the time.
Anyway, I certainly could have found plenty of coconuts while on vacation last week. So where was I, you ask? All I know is that one day I was riding through Central Park:
And the next day I was walking on the beach:
I'm pleased to report I refrained from riding my bicycle on the beach like the gentleman pictured above--and not because I didn't have the appropriate beach bike:
And my options weren't limited to beach riding. I also happened to be right on the local Fred route. However, it seems to me that instead of squandering my leisure time on some flat out-and-back road riding along a route I've already ridden plenty of times on previous visits it made a lot more sense to spend it all on the beach and by the pool.
Hey, if we were staying by Mt. Lemmon or something it might be a different story, but we weren't and I regret nothing.
Finally, this year's NAHBS took place the weekend before last a mere century ride from my home, but alas I did not attend--partially because I was going away and partially because Don Walker hates me, but mostly because I really wasn't paying attention because I get all my custom bike drooling done at the Philly Bike Expo. Nevertheless, of course I perused James Huang's coverage, since he's without a doubt the go-to chronicler of that event. And while in 2018 nobody can shut up about the performance benefits of disc brakes and fat tires, it was almost a relief to see people are still making clearance porn:
Seems almost quaint now, doesn't it?
If only kids spent more time on bikes then maybe they'd finally give up pernicious pursuits such as listening to rock music, disrespecting their elders, and wearing sneakers and dungarees.
I mean really, calling politicians on their bullshit in the wake of the Parkland shooting after governmental lack of action has led directly to the deaths of their friends and family members? Such impudence!
Speaking of which, last week I mentioned that some of cycling's best-known brands are owned by an ammunition maker:
As it happens, at the moment I own two (2) bicycling helmets (helments). One is a Giro Atmos, and one is an inexpensive Bell I purchased as a "gap helmet" to use until I got around to replacing the broken "Roc Loc" thingy on the aforementioned Giro (and in the process realized there's virtually no difference in comfort between a cheap helmet and an expensive one). This puts me in a bind. On one hand, I don't like guns, so I prefer not to display either logo given the current climate. On the other hand, I don't like helmets, so I don't want to support the Foam Hat Industrial Complex by purchasing a new one.
Oh sure, the answer might seem simple: "Just don't wear a helmet, done and done." Well, it's not that simple. See, while I spend plenty of my riding time exposing my balding pate to the melanoma-giving rays of the sun, I'm also a recovering Fred in the throes of a midlife Fred crisis, as well as a world-famous semi-professional cycling scribe. This means there are certain times when I have to wear a helmet. Consider, for example, that last summer I took part in the Brompton World Championships:
Foam hats were compulsory for the event, and who am I to argue? Bike racing is inherently stupid, and a crucial part of that stupidity is unquestioning adherence to rules, whatever they may be. So whether the rules say to wear a helmet, or to don a blazer, or even to be conformingly irreverent (as is the case with the various singlespeed world championships), you just do it, no questions asked.
The point is, I reserve the right to participate in organized cycling events, and when I do I have no problem wearing the required headgear. At the same time, I refuse to "upgrade" my helmetry at this point simply to avoid displaying a tainted brand, since discarding a hunk of non-biodegradable foam at fixed intervals and purchasing a new one seems not only wasteful but ridiculous.
So clearly there's only one option for me, and that's to fashion a helmet out of a coconut:
Khum Wongsaeng, 73, a Chiang Mai resident is taking part and has modified a coconut shell as a bicycle helmet. He has ridden from Chiang Mai to Bangkok more than four times and said that he is still fit. A foreigner wanted to buy his coconut shell helmet for 5,000 baht but he refused as the coconut shell helmet had saved his life once before.
It's a scientific fact that if you survive any sort of incident your survival is entirely due to whatever you happened to be wearing on your head at the time.
Anyway, I certainly could have found plenty of coconuts while on vacation last week. So where was I, you ask? All I know is that one day I was riding through Central Park:
And the next day I was walking on the beach:
I'm pleased to report I refrained from riding my bicycle on the beach like the gentleman pictured above--and not because I didn't have the appropriate beach bike:
And my options weren't limited to beach riding. I also happened to be right on the local Fred route. However, it seems to me that instead of squandering my leisure time on some flat out-and-back road riding along a route I've already ridden plenty of times on previous visits it made a lot more sense to spend it all on the beach and by the pool.
Hey, if we were staying by Mt. Lemmon or something it might be a different story, but we weren't and I regret nothing.
Finally, this year's NAHBS took place the weekend before last a mere century ride from my home, but alas I did not attend--partially because I was going away and partially because Don Walker hates me, but mostly because I really wasn't paying attention because I get all my custom bike drooling done at the Philly Bike Expo. Nevertheless, of course I perused James Huang's coverage, since he's without a doubt the go-to chronicler of that event. And while in 2018 nobody can shut up about the performance benefits of disc brakes and fat tires, it was almost a relief to see people are still making clearance porn:
Seems almost quaint now, doesn't it?
February 21, 2018
Wish You Were Here
Good morning!
Somehow I've found myself here:
(#whatSPFyourunning)
Given this, I'll be even more aloof than usual this week. In fact, I've even signed off the Bike Forecast until Monday, since filing daily dispatches about cycling in New York City from the beach just didn't seem ethical...though if I were able to get away with it then maybe I could leave the city permanently and nobody would be the wiser.
Ah, who am I kidding, I'm never leaving. So far the closest I've ever come is that time back in 2011 when I fake-moved to Portland. Indeed, I was so relevant in those heady days that The Oregonian even reported on it. (Though I suppose that could have less to do with how relevant I was and more to do with how little there is to report in Oregon.) Still, what cyclist doesn't occasionally fantasize about pulling up stakes and moving to a bicycle-themed apartment complex in the Town That Beards Built?
Amazing:
Somehow I've found myself here:
(#whatSPFyourunning)
Given this, I'll be even more aloof than usual this week. In fact, I've even signed off the Bike Forecast until Monday, since filing daily dispatches about cycling in New York City from the beach just didn't seem ethical...though if I were able to get away with it then maybe I could leave the city permanently and nobody would be the wiser.
Ah, who am I kidding, I'm never leaving. So far the closest I've ever come is that time back in 2011 when I fake-moved to Portland. Indeed, I was so relevant in those heady days that The Oregonian even reported on it. (Though I suppose that could have less to do with how relevant I was and more to do with how little there is to report in Oregon.) Still, what cyclist doesn't occasionally fantasize about pulling up stakes and moving to a bicycle-themed apartment complex in the Town That Beards Built?
Oh emm Gee.
N Williams Ave. pic.twitter.com/1dw2XQfPN2— BikePortland (@BikePortland) February 18, 2018
Amazing:
From their website
BikeSnobNYC's Blog
- BikeSnobNYC's profile
- 25 followers
BikeSnobNYC isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
