We're moving!

Hey kids.  We're officially becoming the Columbia Missouri Cycling Cooperative or COMO CYCO for short.  You can find us HERE now....or you can redirect your browser to http://comocyco.blogspot.com.

We'll still have all the great content plus some new things.  This was a tough decision - but one that will let us keep going much longer under an original format instead of mooching off the sweet ideas of our hero, BSNYC.  See you all over on the new site.

Rest in peace, BSCOMO!

Welcome to the world Grand PooBah!!!

Attack of the San Diego Yeti!

I’m home again after travelling to San Diego for work. With 5 long days of scheduled meetings inside a stuffy hotel, and the weather outside a beautiful 80 degrees and sunny, my emotional status quickly declined into a state of mental constipation. I started to feel like I did as a little kid on Sunday mornings in the summer, when my mother would force me to put on stiff, uncomfortable long pants over my sunburned and scabbed knees and go to church. I had considered renting a bike out there, but knew I would have precious little time to actually use it – so figured it was pointless. Therefore, in the small moments between meeting obligations, I tried to get out and run along the busy road that ran outside the hotel and north toward the beach to get my exercise fix. As I painfully plodded along on the sidewalk watching cyclist upon cyclist zip by me in the bike lane, I felt my frustration grow more and more. It’s not that I don’t like running. I do. But I can only enjoy it when I don’t have to see cyclists. If I’m slogging along and have to be overtaken by a bunch of guys on road bikes, it feels like I’ve been suddenly thrust into a recurrent nightmare where I’m running the 200m sprint in the Olympics but am suddenly struck by some slow-motion force field the instant the starting gun fires, as all my competitors dash away from me. The second part to the nightmare is when I look down, still in slow-mo, and realize I’m not wearing any pants.
Anyway – while running between meetings on Saturday, I began to hear footfalls approaching me from the rear. With every other sound of a foot-slap on the pavement behind me was a simultaneous and increasingly audible exhalation “HEEEEEEE” wheezing sound like one would expect from a suffocating asthmatic. Don't get me wrong - I suffer when I run too.  But making such noises is simply unnecessary. I don’t care if you’re running from a pack of feral hogs, have the dignity to suffer in silence, I say. As this fellow passed me, I was struck by the entire spectacle. He was shirtless, a good head shorter than me, was completely covered in thick body hair and appeared to have scoliosis as his spine listed ominously to the left. His feet slapped the pavement as though he were wearing a pair of flippers and he continued to “HEEEE, HEEEE, HEEEE” as he passed me. Just then a group of 3 guys on Pinarellos whirred by us, heads cocked toward us with quizzical looks on their faces, all clearly trying to ascertain where the wheezing sound was coming from. They all looked to me for whatever reason, and it was as if I had just exited an already pre-fouled bathroom on an airplane to a line of waiting people, all looking at me as if I were the one responsible for the emerging stench. The cyclists passed, the shirtless ape ran on, and I fumed deciding to employ my only course of revenge by snapping a photo of the scoliotic simian and posting his picture here.

Although I was forced to continue to look forward at his hairy and sweaty back for several moments more, hindsight, they say, is 20/20, and as I look at this photo now in retrospect, it smacks of something oddly familiar.

Now I am left wondering if what the Pinarello Princes and I were actually looking at was an elusive San Diego Yeti.

At any rate, once the camera was out, I began photographing cyclists as they passed by, which was actually enjoyable, as though I were on safari on the La Jolla Serengeti. 

My first "kill" was a fixie rider sporting a couple of fashion foibles that I'm not entirely comfortable with.  First is the male shirtless look (as opposed to the female shirtless look).  Now I realize, this is southern California, and it is 80 degrees out, but I still contend that no one wants to see male nipples on a bike.  Secondly - this guy was wearing slippers EXACTLY like my grandpa used to wear to pad about the house.  Initially I was impressed with how he was humping up a fairly steep hill in what appears to be a substantial gear ratio, but then i caught a glimpse of the sag of his feet over those pedals and my own plantar fascia began to weep.

I think the good people of San Diego require some cycling footwear education, because not two minutes later I captured this.  The dreaded Flip-Flop.  Again - please take particular note of the subsequent 'foot-sag' and weeping plantar fascia.  I wonder if I could actually invent a carbon-soled cycling flip-flop - because I think I could make a killing. 

In assessing his foot sag, I notice that he has also been stricken with "canklosis" or the "condition of possessing a cankle" which, if you are unaware, is when no definition exists between the calf and the ankle.  Thus, the two structures unfortunately merge into one entity, called the cankle.

Every good safari must have a "one that got away" story.  Thus, I bring you the next "cyclist" who came from behind a eucalyptus tree and took me by complete surprise.  So much so that I fumbled with the camera and blew my chance to bag a picture of the beast.  I have done some subsequent internet research, however, in the attempt to identify it.   You will just have to take my word that I actually saw this:

This thing is apparently called an ElliptiGO and is a mutant offspring of an eliptical machine and a bicycle.  As though it weren't unsightly enough, the contraption is a good 50% longer and positions the rider a good 50% higher than any other bike around - to maximize the "HEY EVERYONE - look at ME effect".  I feel especially privledged to have seen one of these as they are not even set to be officially released from the San Diego-based company until January 2010.  If you are brave enough to actually ride this one, I think all previous fashion suggestions are null and void and you should go for the full faux-pas monty on this one.  Go shirtless, wear your flip flops, wheeze like a mo-fo, and bask in the glory of being a complete douchebag. 

Sweet, Sweet Bike Love

What is the emotion of desire one feels for an inanimate object?  Is it love?  The Spielberg movie A.I. (short for Artificial Intelligence) attempted to address this question with the character of David, who was a robot - but looked like a human.  So this analogy is already flawed - because David is an animate object of sorts.  He walks, and talks and interacts.

What I'm talking about is a true inanimate object.  Websters says inanimate means "not endowed with life or spirit, lacking consciousness or power of motion."  So - can you love something like this?

Maybe 'can' is not the correct word.  Loving inanimate objects seems to be a bit of a problem across the pond in the UK.  Apparently in 1997, a certain Mr. Robert Watt, 38, of Edinburgh was arrested for having sex with a shoe.  Five years later he was busted again - this time for having sex with a traffic cone.  I've just got to say, that if I were stranded alone on a deserted island for, say 10 years, with either a shoe or a traffic cone.....well - I wonder what kind of shoe it was?  Cause this:

Is certainly different than this:

Anyway.....

Back to bikes and merry old England circa 2007.   Acording to the UK post The Telegraph,  Robert Stewart of Ayr was in his room in a hostel, when cleaners unlocked the door after repeatedly knocking with no response and caught him having sex with his bike.  I know EXACTLY what you are thinking at this point - and I was wondering the same thing.  What kind of bike was it? I don't know - and cannot find the answer anywhere.  This guy was arrested and put on the sex offenders register for three years.  I for one, call foul!  Does anyone think the bike was offended by his action?  Plus - he was in his room behind a locked door! It may not even have been entirely his fault.  What if he had been down at the pub that night, and while on his way home, he stumbled upon this hot little Bianchi number that was carrying a six-pack in her basket with a come hither stare? (I'll let you read her name on the top tube yourself.)

A very similar occurence almost went down in Cape Girardeau just last month when a certain Mr. Benjamin Savage stole not one, but TWO 24-packs of beer while on his bike.  He got half-way to the local Motel 6 before he was caught...no doubt he was responding to the siren call from his two-wheeled, spoked companion for a little fun.

But this is bike LUST which should not be confused with bike LOVE.

Recently a COMO reader named Rachel sent me a picture of her bike, named 'Crush' seen below:

I know, I know.  It would be easy to jump all over Crush with all sorts of fashion mockery - but consider this.  This little 'engine that could' took Rachel across 744 miles to Omaha and back again over 11 days.  This terrific Trek with her Brooks saddle is a veritable pack mule that even the Mad Mennonite would be proud of.  You can read more about Rachel and Crush here.  I can't think of more compelling evidence that bike love is real and happening every day.

That said, should love for your bike become a little more amorous and you feel the urge to take things to the next step but are a little nervous about making the first move, consider the results from a recent scientific study pulished in the Journal of Perceptual and Motor Skills in April.

In this article titled "Music and light during indoor cycling," the researchers Shaulov and Lufi concluded that "participants [engaged in indoor cycling]....report more pleasure and less tiredness while exercising with music and dimmed light.  It is recommended that music and dimmed light might be used during such activities to heighten pleasure and reduce tiredness while emphasizing fitness acheived."

Yep - a little mood lighting and music never hurt. 

By the way - if you've seen a bike that you think is hot....why not tag him/her like this?  Get the cards here.

Pedal on!

P.S.  Business is calling me away on a trip for the remainder of the week - but we will be up and running again next week.  Until then talk amongst yourselves.

MS150 and the Week in Review Quiz

Congratulations to all the COMO MS150 cyclists out there. You put some good miles on your legs, and gave your bikes some sweet love they deserved. And you raised money for a wonderful cause! Many of you wrote to me asking if I would be there, but alas, I was stuck at work this weekend and unable to join in the festivities. Boo.  Before we get to the Week in Review Quiz, I thought in honor of everyone's participation in the MS150, I would put together an MS150 Cyclist Style and Etiquette rating scale. Tally your scores.

1) Did you ride all 150 miles?
If yes, give yourself 50 points. If you rode anything less, you get 35 points for at least showing up. If you rode the double century option, answer the following question: Did you tell more than 3 people about it? If 'yes', deduct 10 points for being smug.

2) Did you wear a jersey from a UCI Professional Continental, Continental or ProTeam (Examples include Garmin Slipstream, Astana, Columbia HTC)? 
-Were you NOT on a road bike? Deduct 5 points for clashing cycling cultures.
-Were you on a road bike? Deduct 10 points: you are a poseur.
-Deduct 20 points if you were sporting the full kit (team jersey AND bibs).
-Add 10 points if you were wearing retro pro-kit from a team that has been defunct for more than 20 years (not including 7-Eleven or any team Greg LeMond raced for, because he’s gone weird on us).

-Add 20 points if the above non-LeMond, now-defunct team kit was made of wool.

3) Were you sporting a Garmin Edge 705 GPS unit on your handlebars?
-Deduct 10 points: Seriously, the roads are well marked, there are like 1000 other cyclists to guide the way, and this is a fund raiser in mid-Missouri. You're not training in the Dolomites.

4) If you were riding a road bike, did you attempt to draft off of anyone on a recumbent, mountain or hybrid bike?
-Fail. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Go directly to FAIL.

5) Did you drop anyone on the ride that 1) you didn’t know and 2) you were initially drafting off of for more than 20 seconds without permission?
-Deduct 10 points for each occurrence, unless:
a) You said “nice pull” to them as you passed: Then only deduct 5. You still should have spoken to them before you started drafting in the first place.
b) You said absolutely nothing as you passed: Deduct 25 points UNLESS one of the following situations occurred:
-1)The rider you dropped was older than 17 but younger than 40 and you receive mail from the AARP. Add 25 points.
-2)The cyclist in front of you was riding a road bike valued at more than $4000 and he/she had hairy legs and/or an inverse belly-to-calf diameter ratio. They don’t ride enough to deserve their bike so you get grudge points – but not a lot. Add 5.
-3)They vomited and/or snot-rocketed and/or crop dusted you while you were drafting. You dropped them in self-defense. Deduct 5 – you still should have spoken to them before drafting off of them.

6) If you were the person in #5 above that had an unwelcome wheelsucker that did not greet you and drafted for more than 20 seconds….
Add 5 points for snot-rocketing them.
Add 10 for crop dusting (but deduct 15 if you hit mud. Not cool. Ever).

Ok – on to the Week in Review quiz.

Question #1: What is this?

a) Mark Cavendish's Dimple Rumpy

b) Fried flopped Mutton

c) A half-eaten Clif Bar

d) A deep-fried Oreo Cookie

Answer: d).  As featured on VeloNews' coverage of the Tour of Missouri, they highlighted some fine Missouri cuisine and included this delicacy.  Something for all of us to be proud of - eh?  Watch it here.

Question #2:  What happened to this cyclist (Anibal Borrajo) during stage 5 (the time trial) of the Tour of Missouri?

a) He hit mud while trying to crop dust.

b) He double-punctured.

c) He got hit by a car.

d) He set a new Tour of Missouri Time Trial speed record.

Answer: c)  Yup.  Borrajo races for Colavita-Sutter Home and inside the last two kilometers of his time trial run, he was hit by an event VIP car on the course, knocking him off the road.  He was fine other than a little road rash but the crash broke his front wheel.  Because he had no team chase car, he ended up waiting10 minutes at which point Columbia HTC's support vehicle actually stopped to help him so he could finish the stage.  Nice.  Read about it here.

Question #3: This bike was photographed on Ninth Street by yours truly.  What is the name of this handlebar configuration?

a) The double flop-and-chops

b) Pork chop and flops

c) Flip-flop and chops

d) 'the pronghorn'

Answer: d)  I've never seen this configuration before, and honestly, cannot understand it.  Does the rider really feel the need for extra bar-end extensions inside the flopped chops?  I think this beast is as yet, unclassified, so I get to name it myself, and I'm calling it 'the pronghorn' for the obvious similarities  to pronghorn antelope.

Incidentally - the above photograph is actually a cropped portion of a larger photograph (seen below), which is the original version I found on the internet when I did a search for images of pronghorn antelope.

As you can see, this pronghorn is no longer with us.  But his head is.  And it has been mounted and then posed in the great outdoors.  So let's see...it was shot out in the wild, brought inside, had all of its internal structures replaced with sawdust and glass eyes and shit, and then taken back outside into the wild to be photographed up close as though it were still alive.  Wouldn't it have been easier to just leave it alive and in the wild and photograph it with a telephoto lens?  Maybe I've missed the point.

Question #4: Identify this object:

a) A six-pack cooler that attaches to your bike.
b) The new, slightly less hip, front-end messenger bag from Chrome.
c) The new insulated carrier for pizza-delivery-cyclists.
d) A dog-carrier for your bike.

Answer: d) It even comes with a little sunshield so you don't burn your Chihuahua.  Check it here.

If you scored 4/4, take your oreo cookie for a ride in its front-end basket and help yourself to a deep-fried Chihuahua...wait a minute - reverse that.

Pedal on!

Observations on the Tour of Missouri

As with any cycling fanatic in the US, and certainly in Missouri, it was with great excitement that I recently attended several of the stages of the ongoing Tour of Missouri (TOM); specifically, the finish of Stage 4 in Jefferson City and the entirety of the Time Trial in Sedalia, Stage 5.  Several things have always impressed me about this race, most of which is the accessibility to certain cycling Gods that we usually only get to see on TV or webcasts as they ride through Europe.  This year's TOM has no shortage of true legends that can make any grown cycling fan (yours truly certainly included) feel and act like a little girl at a Backstreet Boys concert back in the day.  Marco Pinotti, David Zabriskie, Jens Voigt, George Hincapie, Yaroslav Popovych, Levi Leipheimer, Franco Pelizotti, Floyd Landis and Thor Hushovd are but a few in this year's contest. 

But these guys are seasoned veterans.  They have have been around the proverbial crit circuit more than a few times and have experienced the richest life that the upper echelon of pro-cycling can offer to be sure:  from racing through the rain-soaked streets of Barcelona, up the crowd-packed course of l'Alpe D'huez, time trialing through Monaco and finally coursing down the Champs-Elysees - and that was all just at the Tour de France and doesn't even consider the thousands of other European destinations these pros will ride through and the millions of obsessed fans that will flock to watch them over the course of a season.

So I'm left asking myself - "I wonder what they think of Missouri?"  Thus I set out to compile a little data and try to do a comparative analysis of racing in Missouri versus elsewhere and in so doing have made some observations.

Observation #1:
One of the pillars of any major professional bike race has become the "podium girl.'  You've seen them.  They are the lovely, statuesque ladies, typically perched on stilletoes, who hand the winner the trophy, kiss him on both cheeks and then pose with the champion of the day for the photographers.  They are certainly no stranger to Thor Hushovd.  He has had an excellent season, in spite of the dominance of the Manx Missile (aka Dimple Rumpy).  Here is a picture of Thor at the 2009 Tour of California with an all-too-common Barbiesque podium girl besmocked in red.

Thor has also had a very good Tour of Missouri - having won a stage and been the bearer of both the yellow and green jerseys, thus has gotten some podium time in our great state as well.  Here is Thor with a red-clad Tour of Missouri podium girl.

Observation #2:
Anyone who has watched the Tour de France is probably very familiar with the wildly popular costumed fan hailing from Germany named Dieter "Didi" Senft whose alter ego is The Devil.  He frequents many of the stages of each year's race and taunts the cyclists, screaming and gesticulating with his pitch fork and hellish guise, seen here:

Watching the finish of Stage 4 the other night in Jefferson City, I got to see the Tour of Missouri's version of The Devil at the jersey presentation and snapped a picture of him.  He apparently comes from Clark, Missouri and goes by the name, The Mad Mennonite.

Their tacts are quite different in taunting the racers.  While The Devil of the European scene prefers to evoke the fury of hell and the terror of Satan himself in reminding the cyclists how badly they are already suffering by mocking and laughing at them......

the Mad Mennonite chooses instead to be reticent and pensive, harshly staring at his pedalling victims with cold eyes behind dark sunglasses, loathing their brightly colored costumes and willing them to think twice about whether they will have the strength to finish without the assistance of a horse, or strong mule to pull their carbon buggies along.

Observation #3:

Everywhere the golden fleece of the maillot jaune goes in the Tour de France (worn by Alberto Contador here), he is surrounded by throngs of fans, eager to catch a glimpse or possibly a discarded bidon souvenir of the rider who possesses the talent and dedication to have ascended to such lofty, and select heights of the cycling elite.

At the Tour of Missouri, the yellow jersey bearer (JJ Haedo here) is given time to reflect upon his accomplishments alone and is always encouraged to recycle his used water bottles instead of casting them along the roadside as trash.

In all seriousness, the TOM is an amazing event and opportunity to bring some of the world's greatest cyclists to our very doorstep.  In addition, it allows Americans to see great American cyclists race.  I've long felt it was an absolute shame that such prestigious US athletes like our current national champions Hincapie and Zabriskie can be recognized in Europe more than in their own country where they must travel with relative anonymity, hardly receiving a mention from the conventional, non-cycling-centric sports media. Recently interviewed regarding the future of the TOM, Lt. Governor Peter Kinder said, "Nothing is guaranteed. We signed a three-year contract to do three races and this is the third year of that contract. As things stand now, unless we race supporters can pull together a herculean effort, I think that's what it would take [for there] to be a fourth edition of the Tour of Missouri."

Let's hope the Mad Mennonite has some tricks (and money) up his sleeves.

Pedal on.

Accusations!

Well Pilgrims, some serious accusations are being thrown around the peloton today.  

No – I’m not speaking of the recent assertion that Lance was receiving autogenous blood transfusions during the Tour de France.

And no, I’m not talking about the possibility that Mark Cavendish has swine flu-like symptoms.

I’m talking about yours truly.  Yes, I have come under some serious scrutiny as was seen by the comments of two anonymous readers after the last post.  Appreciating the concept of anonymity, but wanting to avoid confusion I have chosen to name these two individuals to clarify my response to their concerns.  I will refer to the first commenter as ‘Mancebo’ after Francisco Mancebo, currently of Rock Racing.  I have chosen this name because I have always had so much respect for Mancebo – but also because nobody – and I mean NOBODY can grimace in pain like Mancebo. 

I can just imagine our reader Mancebo having a similar pained expression while suffering through my drivel.    Mancebo makes the following accusations: 

Anonymous (aka 'Mancebo', wincing and in pain) said...

"This blog does nothing that hasn't already been done far better by bikesnobnyc. Unoriginal content, unoriginal tone, unoriginal quizzes. Shitty and lame. Take this down if you have even the tiniest scrap of pride"

SEPTEMBER 10, 2009 4:37 AM

I, the accused, would like to take each of Mancebo’s allegations independently.

1) “This blog does nothing that hasn’t already been done far better by bikesnobnyc.”

NOT GUILTY.  I am the only cycling blog that has EVER featured both a javelina AND a chocolate chip pancake wrapped sausage.  Having said that, if BSNYC did decide to banter about javelinas and pancake wrapped sausage – I’m quite sure it would be superior.

2) “Unoriginal content, unoriginal tone, unoriginal quizzes.” 

GUILTY, GUILTY and NOT GUILTY (respectively).  See #1 above – I still contend that the javelina was pretty original.

3) “Shitty and lame.”

I looked both terms up in Webster’s to make sure I wasn’t misinterpreting the syntax: "shitty" in this context, I’m assuming refers to “of very poor quality, highly inferior.”  Compared to BSNYC, this is TRUE – GUILTY AS CHARGED.  I am assuming "lame" in this context likely does NOT refer to a malfunctioning limb or appendage (although I am suffering with a touch of patellar tendonitis) but rather “lacking needful or desirable substance.”  I plead NOT GUILTY here as I find myself both needful and desiring several things including, but not limited to: more writing acumen, some new Look pedals and a copy of that July 1983 Playboy I found in the woods.

4) “Take this down if you have even the tiniest scrap of pride.”

Well, unfortunately, the last scrap of my pride kind of looks like this currently:

And my day job is already hard at work obliterating what is left of that…..but I will certainly take this under advisement.

Ok – on to commenter #2 who wrote in response of Mancebo's earlier post.  We’re going to call commenter #2 ‘Liz’ after Liz Hatch who races for Vanderkitten.  The reason being is because…well look at her photo first.
  

I’ve been rejected by women that look like Liz my entire life and almost always the rejection is as succinct and efficient as reader 'Liz' delivers here in her response to Mancebo's suggestion of my immediate cessation:

Anonymous (aka "Liz Hatch", buxom and angry) said...

"concurred."

SEPTEMBER 10, 2009 3:59 PM

Never fear Mancebo and Liz - I'm not quitting my day job!

Until next time (assuming there is a next time)....pedal on?

Playboy Fixies

As I sit and write this tonight, I have the Vuelta playing on Universal Sports, and am listening to the commentator criticizing Alexander Vinokourov for a new blog he’s just started because according to him "The blog is so yesterday.  TWEETING is where it's at now."  Let's hope for my sake he's wrong.  But the discussion of Vino is an interesting one.  This is the same Vino that was once called the “bulldog” for his tenacity in relentlessly attacking Lance Armstrong and his Discovery team in trying to get on the podium in France in 2005, was later busted for doping, retired saying he would never race again only to pop up this year, days after his suspension was lifted, demanding to be let back on “his” team while wearing this kit: A jersey with his own picture on the front in his former Astana uniform with the words "Vino-4-ever".

By the very nature of a professional cyclist’s kit, he or she is a walking billboard, an advertisement for the sponsors. So what does it say to wear an image of yourself on your jersey?  Vino was criticized heavily for this kind of seemingly shameless self-promotion.  But doesn’t Superman wear a giant “S” on his chest?  Granted, a large “S” is a little more subtle than a silkscreened massive visage of his own dippity-dooed hair and cleft chin, but still, would the good people of Metropolis have preferred if Clark had logos for the Daily Planet all over his uniform?

This is not to say that Vino is like Superman.  Far from it.  If I had to pair him up with a superhero - I think it would be more like Aquaman with the blonde hair and the constant slimyness.

Vino's jersey reminded me of when I was about 12 years old and for my birthday, my grandparents got me a sweatshirt with a reproduction of a photograph of myself on it.  As if it weren’t bad enough, the picture they used to have printed on this cotton monstrosity had been taken about 2 years previously (again on my birthday) when I was eating a big piece of cake.  This was the same summer when I spent many of my days on my bike on some trails in the woods by my house.  It was in these very woods that I stumbled upon a hidden stash of Playboy magazines owned and secretly stowed away by my neighbor, an asshole high school kid who once had shot in me in the ass with a BB gun, and was thus due for some well-deserved retribution.  Therefore, I moved the stack of skin-mags to my own secret location, and proceeded to spend the rest of the summer learning what naked women looked like.  I came to appreciate the early 80’s naked female form  in all of its natural, un-enhanced, tan-lined, occasionally imperfect splendor.

Earlier this year, a friend of mine bought a current edition of Playboy (yeah - that's right - a friend) and being curious, I took a peek through it.  I’m not sure what I was really expecting, but what I saw was strangely foreign to me.  Nothing but flawless oceans of evenly-amber tanned skin stretched over silicon and collagen implants and injections (respectively).  Where were the real women?  I felt like a COG (see Question #3).  Looking at photographs of some industry fixies on display at the Eurobike 2009 this week was oddly reminiscent of looking at that recent Playboy - with all of it's amber-toned shiny fakeness.

This one looks like some little kid just puked up a bunch of cotton candy after being on the tilt-a-whirl all afternoon at the local fair.

And an obnoxiously brightly colored Cinelli....available in all the colors of the rainbow!

The irradescent metallic paintjobs on these Tange's make them look like a piggy pile of Japanese beetles in a love fest.

I'm left wondering where are the real bikes?  Is it just all this fake fluff? 

And it seems like everybody is trying to jump on the fixed gear craze these days.  Check out the bicycle line from Urban Outfitters: a clothing retailer for the individual who wants to be a hipster RIGHT EFFING NOW!

Not only can you design and order your brand new fixed gear and have it shipped to your door in 7 days in any array of flourescent putresence,

Exhibit A

But you can also order a range of clothes to make you look like a complete hipsteresque tool.

Exhibit B

And just in case your new slime-green fixie and rakish chapeau don't clue in all the kids that you are, in fact, too hip to be square, you can also get this:

Exhibit C

But I beg to differ, Mr. Hip.....some bikes do pollute.

Pedal on....

Bike Fashion

Many years ago,  I decided to enter my first road race after reading an article in Bicycling Magazine that was titled "Your first race" or something to that effect.  I remember the point of the article was essentially 'if you haven't raced, you are missing out'.  I got butterflies in my stomach that night reading those words and decided, I'm going for it.  The piece in the magazine provided a checklist of essential items to do prior to the race and I followed it to the very letter.  Familiarize yourself with the course.  Check.  Don't forget safety pins for your number.  Check.  Urinate an hour before....and then urinate again right before you start.  Check.  (I think I actually pissed about 17 times that morning I was so nervous).  When the time came, and all Cat V riders were called to the line, I rolled up with all the confidence I could muster.  I looked around at the pack of about 45 cyclists and marveled at a sea of shaved, well muscled and tanned legs rivaled in shinyness only by the ocean of clear-coated carbon fiber frames.  I looked down at my own hairy, white legs....skinny and ill-defined.  The only thing below my waist (that was visible) that was whiter than my legs was the paint job on my aluminum ride.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the lean cyclist on my right lean over and snicker something to the guy on his right that sounded just like "albino sasquatch".  But then the gun sounded, the pack rolled off and I was a racer.  Surrounded by the whir and hum of the cyclists around me gave me a surge of adrenaline I'd not felt since I asked Julie Zovath if I could kiss her in the seventh grade.   The peloton hit the base of the first hill and the leaders slowed, the effect rippling backward through the mass of riders until it reached me at which point I actually had to brake to avoid colliding with the wheel in front of me.  Suddenly, everyone around me was surging forward in a whip-tailed response to make up for the loss in speed with such singular momentum, it was as if everyone was connected by a communal telepathy.  Everyone that is, except me.  The peloton flew around me up the slope of the steep hill as though I had slipped into reverse.  I had been dropped one half of the way through the first of three laps around the hilly circuit.  My race was over with 27 miles to go.  I finished DFL.  I learned an important lesson that morning.  The only time you might see the other cyclists in the peloton is at the start line - so you should at least look like you know what you are doing even if you can't ride like it.

With this in mind, I thought today we should discuss some issues of bike fashion.  Important to every cycling subculture is: appearance, appearance, appearance.  As I was about town this past week, I managed to photograph a few rides that are worthy of analysis and discussion.  For each ride, I've posted a non-labelled photograph first so that you can try to spot les faux-pas with me.

Bike #1:

Upon first examination, this appears to be a nice fixie.  Not sure of the type of frame, but has some yellow-taped flop and chops with a front wheel suicide brake.  Upon closer examination, however we see something a little odd at the base of the seat post.  Oh no.

Yup - a bandana is wrapped around the base of the seat post.  Now, some will use this to cover up an unsightly seat post clamp, however to me, it makes your bike look like it's wearing a diaper.  Notice how it is periously perched in a prime mud-flinging area between the rear wheel and your ass.  Did you know that in the UK, a diaper is called a 'nappy.'  I think we'll call this one the 'bike nappy'.

Bike #2:

I caught this hipsteresque chap on 9th street with his fixie.  This one should be a lot easier than the first one.  Let's break it down?

Ok - we'll work from left to right on this one.  How about the non-taped, polished chrome 'flop-no-chops'.  I have no problems with the non-chopped look and think unfettered polished chrome drops can be hot...but as far as practicality?  I imagine that trying to grip non-taped, non-gripped, polished chrome handlebars with sweaty palms prevalent in the heat of a mid-Missouri summer would be about as effective as grabbing a snot-covered door knob.  Secondly - what is up with the flip flops for foot wear?  Completely impractible if he wants to ride with cages on the pedals.  Plus they have no grip on the bottom, thus potentiating slipping off the front of the pedal and raking it up his atrophied, hairy, little calf.  In addition - they are just plain unhealthy as has been reported in the news lately!  Lastly - Mr. 'Flip-Flip-No-Chop' is sporting a hydration system on his back.  Yep - cause I'm guessing the distance covered on this bike in flip-flops and polished chrome flopped bars could really result in some serious dehydration.  On the other hand, he is wearing a wool hat on a day that was around 80 degrees - so that can make you thirsty.

Bike #3:

Everybody ready for the train wreck?

Yup - this is about an '87 Peugeot Mont Cenis PSN10 (I think?) that has apparently been converted to an SS.  And I must say - the bike is incredibly clean and has been clearly cared for and loved.  Kudos for some sweet, sweet bike love.  But what is even more lovely here are all the things that have been added.
1) The kick stand.  Did this bike even come with a kick stand originally?  Does anyone know?  Oh my.  Could this bike have had a kick stand added?
2) A MONSTER 'pie plate' spoke protector; that most useless of bike add-ons that is only slightly easier to remove than a fat kid off of a piece of cake.
3) In place of Bike #1's diaper, this dandy is sporting a plastic flower arrangement attached to the seat stays behind the reflector.  Lipstick on a pig, Mr. Peugeot.  Lipstick on a pig.  (I almost gave this a pass because the flowers are color-coordinated with the stripes on the frame's original paint job.)
4) A locking system comprised of a chain so large it was originally used to hold the anchor on the Lusitania that secures the frame, and yet abandons both wheels.  I'm hoping this chain is a permanent fixture on the outside of this building, but can guess this cyclist carries it around in a fanny pack while riding. (This almost got a pass because perhaps the rider was previously using a bic-pen susceptible U-lock and wanted to bump it up a notch protection-wise.)

That's all for now.  Pedal on.