Some time ago, I stumbled upon the above tattoo. I don't know whose it is or who it represents. The yellow jersey and lonestar helmet would indicate Lance Armstrong, but the Colnago suggests otherwise. Perhaps its a tribute to somebody else altogether. Perhaps it's highly personal. Maybe you're the wearer, or maybe you know the wearer, and you can provide some insight. In any case, though, I was troubled by the origins of this mysterious marking. And then Stevil Knievel of the great howtoavoidthebummerlife sent me this:
Somehow this tattoo made everything OK. Maybe it's because the yellow jersey tattoo suddenly had a counterpart in the universe. A Pepsi to its Coke. A Campy to its Shimano. A Balki Bartokomous to its Larry Appleton. I don't know what to call it except symmetry. And it made everything all right.Then, today, I saw that Fat Cyclist made a flattering reference to my site on his, which was undeserved but highly appreciated. It also made me think about how we are very different yet, in a way, complimentary. In a sense, I like to think I'm the Luke Skywalker to his Luke Skywalker:
But that might be pushing it. Perhaps this comparison is more apt:
At any rate, I think there's a balance there. (Thanks FC.)
And the symmetry inherent in the cycling culture is quite apparent this weekend here in New York. On one end of the Long Island Land Mass, Erwin Vervecken, Ryan Trebon, and other cyclocross luminaries will compete in Southampton, summer home of Sean Combs, Howard Stern, Steven Spielberg, and their innumerable landscapers and domestics. This will be a great opportunity to see your cyclocross heroes racing knee deep in money instead of mud.
Meanwhile, on the other end of that storied two-pronged glacial moraine, on the gritty streets of Brooklyn (well, at least it used to be gritty, and maybe it still is if you consider West Elm gritty), the "Battle at the Banks" will take place. Expect more front trispokes than a triathlon, more naked bars than a red light district, and more skid marks than a prison laundry. (Though I'm not sure if "banks" refers to the incline on the flyer or the fact that they keep opening new ones in this part of town.)*
*(This just in. Brooklyn Banks actually in Manhattan. BSNYC stupid, symmetry blown.)
So whatever your cycling inclinations, I think there's a certain beauty in the fact that, for one weekend at least, a big hunk of land will be transformed into one giant balance scale, with fixed-gear freestylers vying for supremacy on one end, and cyclocrossers battling it out on the other. And there's even a crit right in the middle at the pivot point if you're not sure where you belong.
So whatever you're riding this weekend and wherever that ride takes you, just remember what we'd be left with if cycling were to lose its beautiful symmetry and balance: recumbents.
So whatever you're riding this weekend and wherever that ride takes you, just remember what we'd be left with if cycling were to lose its beautiful symmetry and balance: recumbents.