Bike Del

Golden Verse: Haiku You

Speed.

Grace.

Souplesse.

Umami-esque.

These are just a few of the ~~nouns~~ ~~adverbs~~ words that describe ~~the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing Retro-Fred from the planet Tridork~~ Bret, whose near-ubiquity has transformed him from merely a man into a legend. And not a "legend" like this guy thinks his penis is:

But a real, genuine, bonerfied legend:

In fact, in a lot of ways, Bret is like Jesus. It doesn't matter whether or not you worship him. Indeed, it doesn't matter whether or not you believe he ever even existed. Regardless, his image is everywhere, and his myth continues to shape the course of human history. Also, Jesus has been known to appear in tortillas, while Bret occasionally pops up on Canadian bread:

(All You Haters Taste My Pumpernickel)

And the similarities don't end there. For example, different cultures depict Jesus differently. Some people render him like this:

(Europeans tend to depict Jesus as a hot chick with a beard.)

While others portray him like this:

(Jesus hanging a picture of an aging Chris Rock.)

And still others depict him like this:

The point is, Jesus is a reflection of who we are, and so is Bret. Some cultures portray Bret in the traditional yellow t-shirt motif, while others like to use the miracle of Computers to dress him in more modern roadie vestments, as in this rendering that was forwarded to me by a reader:

Speaking of The Jesus, the word "zounds" is an old-timey curse word that means "God's wounds," and a number of people pointed out that the mystery bottle I mentioned yesterday:

Actually powers something called an "Airzound:"

And here is dramatic video from some country where they drive on the wrong side of the road, in which the mighty blast emanating from an Airzound actually causes a motorist to extract his or her head out of his or her own ass:

Maybe I'm just self-conscious, but I don't think I could use an Airzound. I do, however, occasionally use a more sustainable high-decibel warning system that I carry with me at all times. It consists of two high-volume air canisters:

Vibrating cords that look like an alien's vagina:

And a sort of "mouthpiece" that allows me to form these sounds into recognizable words:

In the event an obstacle enters your path, you can engage this system to loudly broadcast any message you like, from a friendly, "Hey, watch where you're going" to a bracing "Cocksucker!" The mouthpiece is also customizable so you can match it to your bike, and popular accessories include "sulky teen:"

"Hipster:"

And, of course, "Bret Disciple:"

But when it comes to street safety, the New York City Department of Transportation is forgoing deafening blasts and shouted invectives in favor of a more subtle subtle method of which Jesus himself might even have approved. That's right, the same people who brought you the "Don't Be A Jerk" campaign are finally harnessing the gentle, soothing power of haiku poetry:

Apparently, the DOT is putting "eye-catching designs" accompanied by haiku in "high-crash locations," and you can see this one as well as the others here:

A sudden car door,

Cyclist’s story rewritten.

Fractured narrative

Well, in lieu of law enforcement that actually protects the more vulnerable road users I suppose some irreverent verse that makes light of "dooring" will have to do, though frankly I think the haiku form is a little pretentious and that they should have "kept it real" with some limericks instead:

There once were some hipsters on fixies,

Who wore vintage shirts from the Pixies.

Through red lights they would fly,

'Til they clipped the wrong guy,

And he punched all of them in the dicksies.

Of course, the DOT realizes that people don't want their tax dollars funding haiku, so they're making sure you know the project is actually funded by DWI fine money:

To me, this is just as bad, if not worse. Basically, what they're saying is that they got this drunk driver money windfall, and of all the things they could have done with it they went and paid somebody to make some stupid art. Frankly, I think they should have used the money to buy all the victims of the recent NYPD bike crackdown gold-plated bicycles instead--like this one forwarded to me by a reader:

GOLD PLATED BICYCLE - CONDOR - $1200 (WISCONSIN)

Date: 2011-11-21, 7:56AM CST

Reply to: [deleted]

FAMOUS ANNIVERSARY GOLD CONDOR BIKE FRAME.

ALL REAL GOLD PLATED.

THE ONLY GOLD PLATED BIKE EVER MADE.IF YOU HAVE SEEN ANOTHER, PLEASE SEND ME A PHOTO.

$1,200.

HAND SILVER BRAZED, FANCY NERVEX LUG WORK, GOLD CONDOR HEAD BADGE, REYNOLDS 531 TUBING, CAMPY DROPOUTS AND FORK.

SERIOUS BIKE "COLLECTORS" ONLY.

SCAMMERS DON'T EVEN BOTHER.

"The only gold plated bike ever made?" Like, seriously? What a total "noob!" First of all, every bike dork knows about that gold-plated bike Colnago gave to the Pope:

The stuff of which Fredly dreams are made, I'm sure this celebrated bike is sitting up the attic at the Vatican as I type this, along with all those holy relics and Nazi gold and first edition Batman comic books and whatever other treasures they've been sitting on for the past millennium.

Also, who could forget that gold-plated and crystal-encrusted fixie some company was trying to sell back in the gilded age of the fixed-gear trend?

It was a bargain at just €80,000. However, being what the crabonmongers now call a "halo bike," they also offered a cheaper non-gold "value" model for men with "Jew-fros" and Ken doll genitals:

(2009, when fixies still meant something.)

Those were the days.

Mary Clare, W Division St & N Damen Ave, Chicago, IL

Mary Clare rides a Miyata Three Ten road bike

Where are you going?
Riding home from Myopic bookstore
Tell me more about your bike, and where you got it?
Miyata Three Ten, I bought it off one of my old roommates, it was too short for him.
What are you wearing? I got my bag about 7 years ago from this place in Philly called Reload bags. the scarf is from my friend who got it from the salvation army on Devon. It's pretty handy for drying off my seat after its been sitting out. BDG Jeans, T-shirt, Jacket, Frye Boots, and, most importantly, Smart Wool socks and my Triple Eight Helmet.
Why ride?
Even on these rainy days, still faster than walkin.
Favorite ride?
I really like this protected bike lane business on Kinzie, so I'd say my ride to work.
While riding you …?
Catch flies. I really have to stop riding with my mouth agape...
How can Chicago improve bike infrastructure or make Chicago more bike friendly?
It'd be nice if everyone wasn't so angry all the time.

***Just had to share the rad vintage photo of Mary Clare's bike. Looks almost identical to hers:

Ooh, That Smell: Feast or Forage

Yesterday I mentioned the controversial outcome of the recent Single Speed Cyclocross World Championships in San Francisco, which has the tattooed and be-shanted contingent of the "bicycle culture" up in expensively inked arms. (I realize that expression refers to the other kind of arms but it always makes me think of someone who's so upset that they've got their arms up in the air in dismay.) Inasmuch as this is now a bonerfied controversy (I realize it's actually "bona fide" but "bona fide" means "genuine" and you can't fake an erection) we can now expect it to follow the Official Controversy Lifecycle, which unfolds thusly:

1) A bunch of people put their arms up in the air because they think somebody disrespected something that gives them a boner;

2) They come up with an easily Tweetable name for the controversy that involves the suffix "gate," or, increasingly, the prefix "#Occupy;"

3) They get bored of it, put their arms back down, and resume playing with their boners.

At present, we're still in the midst of Phase Two, though there seems to be some controversy within the controversy as to whether to refer to the whole mishigas as "Raphagate," or as the slightly more Tweetable "#OccuWuss." Either way, hopefully we can resume our onanism and move on to Stage Three soon. One way of expediting this process is by taking an online poll, since online polls are the confessionals of the Internet. So let's all cast our votes on Raphagate, or #OccuWuss, or whatever you want to call it, herewith:

Now let's put our arms back down and pick up our our boners again.

Moving on, owing to the considerable volume of my Thanksgiving repast I recently found myself with sufficient bathroom time to read the Food Issue of "The New Yorker," and in it was an article about a new culinary trend called "foraging." Foraging is exactly what it sounds like, which is to say it's picking wild crap and eating it. If it helps, think of foragers as "bucolic freegans." Like any trend, it's something people have been doing forever but have only recently seen fit to intellectualize, and it inspires incredible sentences such as this:

A few weeks later, when Paterson and I went truffling with an obliging local carabiniere named Bruno Craba and his two truffle terrier mutts, one of the dogs surrendered so helplessly to the intoxicating smell of semen that the tubers emit--known to foodies as the truffle umami--that she swallowed half a truffle the size of a tennis ball before presenting the rest of it to her master.

So how do you get your food? Do you order it in a fancy restaurant? Do you buy it in the supermarket? Do you co-opt it in your local food co-op? Do you harvest it from your backyard, window box, or community garden? Well, however you get it, get over yourself, because it's positively prosaic compared to setting off with a guy named Bruno and following some dogs around until they cough up something that smells like jizz.

It's especially remarkable to me though how similar food and cycling are. Both fulfill basic needs (food gives us fuel, cycling gets us places) and are so inherently simple as to be boneheaded, yet in certain circumstances both can be legitimately transcendent. As a result, both compel people to "bullshittify" them endlessly in an attempt to come up with a formula that evokes that transcendent experience again and again. By riding fixed-gear bicycles, people once hoped to experience the sensation of "Zen" with every trip. And by rooting around for fungus that smells like cum, people apparently seek the truffling equivalent of "Zen," which thanks to "The New Yorker" I now know is called "truffle umami."

This can only mean that fixed-gear truffle foraging is the next trend on the horizon, and the semen-drenched Zenlike state that will result in a successful "truffle run" will make "hillbombing" seem about as pulse-raising as doing your laundry.

Still, I suppose it's comforting to know that people still forage, just as it's comforting to know that people still walk. These are timeless behaviors, like caring for our offspring and playing with our boners. Granted, the days of ambulatory humans may be numbered thanks to sedentary lifestyles and junk food-induced diabetes, but for now we're still doing it. That's why I can only get so irritated when I see things like this on the Manhattan Bridge bike path:

Sure, as a cyclist I'd like to think that there could be at least one thoroughfare reserved exclusively for bicycles, but as long as we can walk this will never be the case. Yes, it's irritating, but our urge to wander anyplace our feet will take us is what makes us human, and when you take that away from us you take away our humanity. Whether we live in the forest or in the most populous city in America, we need to be free to follow the heady ejaculatory aroma of the "truffle umami" wherever it may take us:

("Mmm, do I smell semen?")

This is why cars can be so unsettling--they're private vehicles that cost lots of money, yet they trump our innate desire and ability to wander. Even cyclists and pedestrians can share a thoroughfare if they each make a bit of an effort, but the relationship between cars and pedestrians is non-negotiable. You either get in a car, or you get out of the way. Now, I'm not anti-car by any means, but as it is if you're not in your car you become an animal who's expected to scamper away, and if you're in one you become an asshole:

The douche biker on Dean - w4m - 27 (Brooklyn)
Date: 2011-11-28, 11:32AM EST
Reply to:

To the asshole biker who spat on my BMW near Dean and Classon this morning. That car cost more than your life and your stupid bike. I hope someone runs you over and breaks both your legs. If I realized you spat on my car and not the ground I would've been happy to do it myself. You're such a bitch to wait until I was stopped at a light behind some cars to do it. Scared of a 5'1 girl? Kill yourself.

Now, I don't condone spitting on cars, but I'm going to take the cyclist's side here. First of all, it's not like he pulled down his shants and made a "truffle umami" deposit on her hood. Secondly, maybe she almost hit him--and even if she didn't, what's some spit on a car anyway? It's a giant hunk of metal that lives outside. Birds crap on it. Cats sleep under it. Kids hang out on its hood when you're not looking. Nevertheless, the first rule in American social interaction is Don't Touch My Car. And regardless of whether or not you spit on a car, most drivers don't like you when you're on a bike because:

1) You are what you "own" (or, as is more often the case, lease from a bank);

2) The more money you spend on a vehicle the more human rights you have.

3) Anybody smaller and smarter than you deserves to be punished.

I only hope one day the driver of that BMW wakes up, smells the semen, and realizes she's been duped out of her own humanity by a motor company and a bank. She should go foraging for a soul.

Speaking of being duped, an unfortunate Williamsburger was recently duped out of a high-end blinky light:

short black hair wed night at the woods - m4w - 27 (S 4th)
Date: 2011-11-24, 4:42AM EST
Reply to:

You left right at closing time, and the bouncer, the bartender and barback all told me that you walked out with my $40 bike light that I absent-mindedly set down on the table right before walking out myself.
As soon as they told me, I rode off to ask everyone I could find coming from the woods if they had taken it. No dice.
FYI, I made it home safely.
You should also know that you stole from someone who:
doesn't have money to drink, which is fine because alcohol would be fatal while taking
this medication to treat Hepatitis C, which costs $50K,
which is why I'm so broke. But fuck it, I'll take being broke over being dead.
Anyways, enjoy your karma.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING
what are you thankful for?

I think we may have just found the "Hipster Job." (That's "Hipster Job" as in Job from the Bible, not "Hipster Job" as in freelance graphic design or making $7 coffees.)

Lastly, speaking of bicycle accessories, a reader in London recently spotted this mysterious top tube-mounted canister:

I have no idea what purpose it serves, but given the front disc brake perhaps the owner has fabricated a truly "epic" master cyclinder for massive rider-catapulting stopping power.

Either that, or it's a fixed-gear truffle-foraging bike.

Halos and Dandies: Laterally Stiff and Vertically Complacent

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

It's another cyclotrope video!

Sophia, S Racine Ave & W Jackson Blvd, Chicago, IL

Sophia rides a Schwinn step-through that she got at Play it Again Sports.

Where are you headed? I am going to ballet class at Lou Conte Dance Studio.
Tell me more about your bike and where you got it: My bikes is a Schwinn step-through, bought at Play it Again Sports
What are you wearing? I am wearing leggings, Ugg boots, cotton sweater, Winter coat

Why Ride? I love the peace and exercise of riding my bike, I avoid traffic jams, and get a good workout. I picked up the habit living in Berlin, Germany where everyone bikes year round!

Favorite ride? My favorite ride is to and from classes and appointments, also along Lakeshore bike trail

While riding? I listen to music while riding

How can Chicago improve Bike infrastructure or make Chicago more bike friendly? More bike lanes!

Clare, W Randolph St & N Wells St, Chicago, IL

Clare rides a burgundy Bianchi "Super" road bike.

Where are you going?
To the Goodwill in the West Loop after my dentist appointment. Trying to offset the pain of dental picks with (hopefully) some sweet finds.

Make/model color of your bike, and where you got it?

It's a burgundy Bianchi "Super" from what I assume is the 70's. I found it at a garage sale a few years ago and upgraded the wheels (hand-built Phil Woods-DT Swiss-gold Velocity Aeroheads) and added a Brooks B72 and Soma Sparrow bars. It's my favorite bike ever.

What are you wearing?
Thrifted Joe's Jeans, awesome Nau winter jacket, RavX biking gloves, Linus bag/pannier, sweet new Onitsuka Tigers, scarf I bought in Thailand last year.

Why ride?
It's hands down the best way to get anywhere in the city! Way faster and cheaper than any other form of transit. And, as I've heard: biking in the Winter is one of the things that makes Chicago's Winter bearable. Amen.

Favorite ride?
Bronzeville. All of the old mansions are amazing, and I like to imagine which one I'd buy and fix up, if I had a spare million.

While riding you …?
Listen to my iPod. It adds a soundtrack to my regular commute, and often gives me a beat to ride to. That said, it's never so loud that I can't hear what's happening around me, so don't worry.

How can Chicago improve bike infrastructure or make Chicago more bike friendly?

I think that the new bike lanes are a step in the right direction. Any added infrastructure or legality that's pro-biking helps to add more bikers. And more bikers makes Chicago a better city to ride in. I have yet to ride anywhere in the US with a better bike culture (yes, I'm biased).

Martha, N Leavitt St & W Ferdinand St, Chicago, IL

Photo: Andrea Bauer

Fresh from Asia, where folks carry all sorts, of crazy, things on their bikes, I've been feeling a little more daring with what I will strap on to my bike. I've been saving up for a new ride cymbal, found myself up by Guitar Center after work, and had to check out their cymbal selection. Of course, I fell in love with the new AAX Sabian Memphis ride cymbal, and had to get it right then and there. Bull horn handlebars have some unexpected perks– like enough width to carry a dozen Doughnut Vault doughnuts, or a 21 inch ride cymbal, and after a some jerry-rigging, the Memphis ride was not-so-securely attached to my bike. It was slow ride home, and I got more than a few chuckles from my fellow cyclists, but rider and cymbal made it home safe.

*** On that note, I am asking for photo submissions! I'd love to see all of the crazy shit other people carry on their bikes. So please send me your photos to mafaw1@gmail.com, and they just might get posted. Of course, I will be stalking the bike lanes as well.

Jessie, S State St & E 16th St, Chicago, IL

Jessie rides a Schwinn cruiser with a Violin strapped to her back.

BSNYC Contrived Situational Comedy With Live Studio Audience! (And Vacation Announcement!) [Applause]

When the BP oil company hired me to write this blog, I had three (3) requirements:

1) The freedom to work pantsless;

2) A salary of $1.6 million per year

3) Time off for holidays and religious observances

Well, after some negotiation BP agreed to meet two out of three of these requirements, which is why I won't be posting next week, nor am I currently wearing pants. Yes, after today this blog will go unmolested by me until Monday, November 28th, at which point I will resume regular updates. Of course, this is a corporate blog, so I've also hired a graphic design company at considerable expense to create an image of my schedule for November:

Now, most people know that Thanksgiving is the holiday during which Americans kill and eat turkeys. However, fewer people know that Thanksgiving also coincides with one of the high holidays of my Lobster-worshipping faith. It's called "Über-Thanksgiving," and it celebrates the day when the Great Lobster descended from the Lobster Tank On High and told his followers, "Fuck working, it's Thanksgiving, just take the entire week off." And so they did, and the Great Lobster was pleased, and there was much napping and watching of television.

Speaking of watching things, a reader recently forwarded me the following video:

In which Thomas Frischknecht displays some formidable flat-bar cyclocrossing:

This just goes to show that the true professional will disregard convention and use whatever equipment best suits him, though at the same time it doesn't make the exotic custom flat-bar Cat 6 road bike phenomenon any less dorky.

Moving on from videos of people who can handle their bikes to videos of people who can't, Stevil Kinevil of All Hail the Black Market recently shared with me this video of a typical triathlete training ride:

It's worth noting that this crash happened well below Fred "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" speed (which is of course 46mph). However, it does neatly illustrate another law of physics, which is that the maximum speed a triathlete can travel on a bicycle without either crashing or causing another rider to crash is 34mph. I would take the additional step of testing this theory in real-world conditions, but there's no way I'm getting close enough to a triathlete to find out. Like a spitting cobra, a triathlete can fell a victim from a distance as great as a full bike length. This means if you can see a triathlete at all, you're too close to him.

And with that, I'm pleased to present you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right it means you've reached mental "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" speed, and if you're wrong it means you'll see a commercial.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and have a Happy Thanksgiving.

--Wildcat Douchebucket