BNYSC Friday Fun Quiz!

(Note: In celebration of our nation's independence from our cruel British overlords, I will not be posting on Monday, July 5th, but will return on Tuesday, July 6th with regular updates.)

Most people would probably agree that the word "epic" is overused, not only by cyclists but by the popular culture in general. However, when it comes to cycling, one might argue that some rides do warrant the appellation. One might also argue that, once in a very long while, a ride not only warrants the title but actually transcends it, and here is the Craigslist account of one such ride:

Date: 2010-06-28, 4:05PM EDT

Friday May 21st, 7pm, zipping down the west side hwy bike path I started to notice some persistent ticking noises. Moments later I heard breathing noises that seemed awfully close, I instinctively turned my head and found you practically riding my ass. I eased my pace to let you pass, but when you didn’t I cranked it up a little to try and leave you in the dust. To my surprise you came flying by me like the wicked witch of the west on your black and silver speedmachine.

As you passed me, our eyes locked in slow motion and IT (the most epic bike race of all time) WAS ON. I noticed we were bizarre-o world cyclists, you on your black and silver bike and white t-shirt and me on my white and gold bike and black t-shirt. We raced faster than a unicorn on rollerblades that was grinding on a lighting bolt, and as I passed you for the last time we said our first and ONLY words, I said “Opposite bikes” and you fired back in an intense and raspy voice; “FIRE AND ICE”.

When I told my sister about our silent bromance she wanted to know which one of us was Fire and which was Ice. I speculate that I am fire because my bike is white hot and your bike is Black Ice. Either way we must face each other ONE LAST TIME for a rematch in which only one of us will make it out alive.


It was in search of such an "epic" that I headed into Manhattan yesterday evening, though clearly I was traveling in the wrong direction, for the throngs of commuters returning to Brooklyn on the Manhattan bridge seemed to be embroiled in contests no less intense than the one recounted above:

So while I failed to find "epic" combat in which the loser must die, I did at least find "epic" verisimilitude, for I visited the opening reception for the so-called Rapha Cycle Club, largely in hopes of obtaining free cheese:

You know you're at a Rapha "jam" when this is what's parked out front:

If I wasn't already intimidated by the sight of a $60,000 car with a $6,000 bumper, I certainly was when I saw fixed-gear freestyle impresario and streetwear enthusiasts Prolly's "whip" locked up to a Dumpster:

Incidentally, Prolly took far better pictures of the evening then I ever could, and even managed to get a shot of some douchebag nervously nibbling on a piece of celery like an agitated guinea pig.

Inside, the walls were lined with photos that explore the fascinating grey area between "epic" and "boring:"

There was also a case full of "Merckx porn:"

As well as an entire truck:

Having taken all of this in, I began my hunt for cheese, and found legions of schnorrers like myself loitering around platters of complimentary meat:

Speaking of schnorring, if you don't have cable and dislike watching bicycle races on a computer monitor, or you're the kind of person who, like the King of Park Slope, uses the phrase "I don't own a TV" as a pick-up line, you can watch the Tour de France at the Rapha Cycle Club (or as I call it, the Raph-tastic Hut of Pretension):

This is a rare opportunity to allow some people's unquenchable lust for expensive bib shorts to underwrite your entertainment, and as far as I'm concerned, everybody wins. (Except for Cadel Evans, because, let's be honest, he doesn't have a chance.) By the way, the cheese was delicious, its flavor undoubtedly enhanced by the fact that I used the Eddy Merckx collectible plate and ate it off the Cannibal's face.

On the way home, I used the Prospect Park West bike lane I wrote about in yesterday's post, where a Transportation Alternatives representative handed me this flyer:

He also gave me this booklet, which I was really excited about until I looked more closely and realized it said "Biking Rules" and not "Viking Rules:"

To my chagrin, it turns out I can no longer use both my earphones when I use my portable tape player:

Guess it's time to upgrade to the Discman.

And now, I'm pleased to present you with a pre-holiday quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right you won't see Tour de France Breakin', and you're wrong you will see Tour de France Breakin'.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and enjoy the holiday weekend.


1) Alberto Contador's famous victory salute is known as the:

2) In the spirit of Snoop Dogg's video good luck message to Lance Armstrong, aging rock band Steely Dan has released a "fight song" for Christian Vande Velde.

3) Why is this cyclist a "rebel?"

--He wears expensive eyewear

(The Great Depression: the OG TET)

4) ITTET, more cyclists seem to be supplementing their income by:

--Delivering food
--Working as part-time couriers
--Driving pedicabs
--Robbing banks

5) One day, "hipsters" will tire of appropriating the Black Flag logo.


6) Where can you get this "vintage bicycle rust?"

--Williamsburg, Brooklyn
--Williamsburg, Brooklyn
--Raleigh, NC
--Williamsburg, Brooklyn

***Special Fakerjack-Themed Bonus Question***

According a recent New York Times article, it seems that "fakerjack culture" is going strong.

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