Farewell to a Difficult Season

Today is the last day of March - and hopefully the last day of what has been a prolonged, difficult winter season. I don't think I am the only one to feel this way: Many bicycle blogs have slowed down this month - with fewer posts and fewer comments, and lots of people have mentioned feeling dispirited.

Funny that March should be the month to almost do us in, rather than January or February. But the key word is almost. My unexpected relationship with Jacqueline gave me just enough of a spiritual boost to deal with the alarming situation that greeted me upon my return to New England: days of non-stop downpours and flooding! Well, I won't let it get me down. April is just a day away and so is the warmth and colour of spring.

In the meantime, I send my regards to all the excellent blogs that have bravely hung on through the entire winter, continuing to give us wonderful posts to brighten the dreary days: EcoVelo, Let's Go Ride a Bike, Riding Pretty, Cycling is Good for You, Portlandize, Suburban Bike Mama, and Biking in Heels, just to name a few.

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Signs of Victory: What it Takes to Win

(I assume I'm interpreting that correctly.)

I am not much of a sports fan. Generally speaking, I only pay attention to sports that I enjoy doing, which means the only ones I follow are professional cycling and pumpkin tossing. As far as the latter goes, the discipline reached its pinnacle in 1998 when the Aludium Q36 Pumpkin Modulator hurled a pumpkin over 4,400 feet, and sadly it's been a sport on the wane ever since. Professional cycling, on the other hand, only gets more exciting every year. First, Louis "Birdie" Munger became the first person to win the Tour de France on a pennyfarthing in 1887. (His time was six years, two months, 25 days, three hours, and four minutes--seconds had not yet been invented.) Then, Eddy Merckx won the World Championships in 1967 on a "safety bicycle," the first time such a contraption had been used in competition. Shortly thereafter, at the 1990 Giro d'Italia, Mario Cipollini became the first-ever rider to contract and (thanks to a hastily-administered penicillin shot) recover from a sexually transmitted disease in the course of a single Grand Tour stage. And today, cycling fans in the United States rejoiced over the news that sprinter Mark "The Man Missile" Cavendish will once again compete in the Tour of California:

As cycling fans already know, the Tour of California used to take place in February, but organizers have moved it to May in order to draw a deeper field by attracting riders frightened of contracting the STDs for which the Giro d'Italia is now famous. It's always exciting to see a rider of Cavendish's caliber pay a visit to US soil, though barring that I suppose his coming to California is the next best thing. (At least it's not Canada.) Of course, Cavendish's fearsome sprint is only a small part of his appeal, and the most exciting thing about him is that he's perhaps the greatest victory-saluter the sport has ever produced. Just a few of the salutes he's invented include:

"The Optician"

"Is there something on my glasses or am I really this awesome?"

"The UPS Man"

"Hi, ladies. Care to sign for this package?"

"The Phone Sex"

"I'm gently thumbing my nipple. What are you doing?"

Word has it that Cavendish is hard at work designing a series of California-themed victory salutes which we will unleash along with his sprint at this year's race. These may or may not include: juggling six oranges he's been secreting in his chamois; carefully weighing the pros and cons of marijuana law reform; and the preparing and subsequent consumption of an actual "epic burrito."

While "purists" may balk, as a cycling fan I'm a firm believer that the victory salute is an essential component of racing, so much so that I think points should be on offer. For example, if two riders are within a few points of each other in the Tour de France "green jersey" competition (not to be confused with the NORML-sponsored "green jersey" at this year's Tour of California, which will go to the last rider to sign in every morning), then I think victory salutes should be taken into account. If Mark Cavendish and Thor Hushovd are running neck-and-neck on the final stage, and Hushovd wins on the Champs-Élysées, yet on the prior stage Cavendish has managed to produce one of his trademark bizarre psycho-sexual salutes, then he overall should still go to him.

But there's more to pro cycling than victory salutes; there's also compelling names, and my most favoritest name has long been Dmitri Fofonov, because his last name sounds sort of like "foffing off," which in turn sounds like a euphemism for "tossing your pumpkin." Fortunately, a reader informs me that Fofonov is now back in the peloton after a drug suspension and has joined Astana:

Yes, foffing off can be rejuvenating--provided it's done in moderation. Incidentally, Astana is also home to the anti-Cavendish, Alberto Contador, whose "fingerbang" victory salutes are as repetitive as Cavendish's are imaginative.

(Contador receives emergency mid-race treament.)

(Fortunately, it's not his fingerbanging arm.)

Hopefully, Contador does not incur some sort of repetitive stress injury this year from all that fingerbanging, though I suppose that's something you're more likely to get from too much Fofonov.

Speaking of road racing, awhile back I mentioned the Reynolds RZR something-or-other crabon fribé "wheelset," which costs $6,000. So proud are Reynolds of these things that they purchased the URL "theworldslightestwheel.com" to flog them, presumably because "theworldsdouchiestwheel.com" was taken at the time. Anyway, it seems as though James Huang has gotten his hands on a pair, and shockingly at no point does he refer to them as "hoops:"

When you pay $6,000 for bicycle wheels, you get the same thing you get when you pay $600, or even when you pay $150, which is a couple of round things that roll and atop which you will still suck at bike racing if you already sucked at bike racing. However, you do get to say you have the "world's lightest wheel," and you also gain access to the exciting world of "Swirl Lip Generator(TM)" technology:

I wanted to learn more about the "Swirl Lip Generator" and if it was indeed something I wanted, but all I could find was this tube of lip gloss from Victoria's Secret:

At five tubes for $20, I was easily able to afford enough "Swirl Lip" technology to smear all over every "wheelset" I own. Furthermore, I still had $5,980 left, which I proceeded to spend on women's underpants. Admittedly, though, I didn't have "N.A.C.A." spokes. N.A.C.A. stands for "National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics"--which was dissolved in 1958:

The name, however, lives on as a name for a sort of air foil, which as far as I can tell means that Reynolds have made bold new use of cutting-edge 1958 airplane technology. So presumably, for $6,000 you will have a wheelset so light, so swirly, and so aerodynamic that it will transform your bicycle into a swirling, gravity-defying, cash-sucking vortex. If a diamond is the product of the extreme heat and pressure that exists below the surface of the Earth, then these wheels are the direct result of the intense desperation emitted by amateur racers all over North America.

Whither uber-curmudgeon and serial retrogrouch Jobst Brandt, a man so formidable that his stare alone produces over a million Diminutive Frenchman Units (DFUs) and can crush a Reynolds RZR like a pair of skinny jeans crushes a pair of "pants yabbies?" Well, a number of readers inform me that he recently granted an interview to the website "Cozy Beehive," and here is an excerpt:

It's refreshing to read something like this, especially just after reading about a pair of $6,000 Fred-rollers. If Brandt were truly market-savvy, he'd "drop" a $6,000 crabon fiber edition of his book complete with N.A.C.A. cover. My guess is it would be a huge bestseller.

Meanwhile, in the world of "outlaw urban" cycling, it seems that the humble alleycat is dead and the new trend is simply piggybacking onto other sports. A reader recently forwarded me this video of the "Wolfpack Hustle" holding a race on the course of the Los Angeles Marathon (and there's also a race report here):

WOLFPACK HUSTLE: LA MARATHON CRASH RACE from Warren Kommers on Vimeo.

Said one rider in the video, "This is the only opportunity all year to ride our bikes unobstructed. No traffic, no lights." As far as I know, there are both sanctioned road races as well as velodromes in southern California, though I suppose it was implicit in his statement that you should also be able to do so while carrying designer messenger-inspired luggage. Anyway, if this whole "hipster" athletic parasitism thing continues to take off, expect to see match sprints at your local bowling alley soon.

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The Salmon Defense: Against the Current, Down the River

As you may have read elsewhere on the "World (except for Saudi Arabia, Burma, China, North Korea, Cuba, Egypt, Iran, Uzbekistan, Syria, Tunisia, Turkmenistan, and Vietnam) Wide Web" (or WEFSABCNKCEIUSTTVWW for short) by now, the Wall Street Journal has officially run out of legitimate news and was consequently forced to publish an article about my "identity." This marks a first for me, since while I often appear in the Journal it's usually because I've engineered yet another ruthless corporate takeover, so this was a refreshing change of pace. You can read the full article here, and it looks like this:

Besides revealing my actual name (which, incidentally, is "Ace" Brophy as many have speculated) the article also includes a salacious full frontal cockpit shot:

Seeing my painstakingly reconstructed cockpit in a widely read publication was a triumphant moment for me, coming mere weeks after the prior iteration of my cockpit was ruthlessly abducted on the mean streets of Greenwich Village and right in front of a public library. Also, I even got mentioned on the local news by the Canadian guy who reads the newspapers to us every morning (I believe in Canada this is what's called a "shout-oot"), though unfortunately he mispronounced my first name. (How you can mispronounce "Ace" I don't know, though I suppose the fact that he's Canadian might have something to do with it.)

Anyway, I want to thank Jason Gay for taking the time to write a kind article about me, the people quoted therein for taking the time to talk to him, and the Wall Street Journal for deigning to publish it. I also want to un-thank and revile the Wall Street Journal's rival newspaper, which got wind of the article just before publication and attempted to execute a last-minute "cockblocking" maneuver yesterday wherein they ran some half-assed piece of their own. Most of all, though, I want to thank everybody for reading so far, and for hopefully continuing to do so. Obviously, in a few days I will reinvent myself and switch the focus of this blog entirely to gardening, but until then I remain,

Very truly yours,

Moving on to far more important matters, while the mainstream media was busy "outing" some low-ranking member of the "doucherati," a high-ranking judge made a landmark legal decision that may very well negatively impact the world of cycling forever. So significant is this decision that it makes the whole New York City Critical Mass parade rule thing look about as important as the "Fixie Crew's" decision to buy cockles at Whole Foods. I am referring to a case that recently aired on the television show "Judge Judy" ("Judge Judy" is the Supreme Court of the eating-Cheetos-on-the-sofa-all-day set) in which a driver (the Plaintiff) is suing a cyclist (the Defendant) for running into his car:

As it happens, this video was actually forwarded to me by a friend of the Defendant, and I watched it with interest. Here's the Plaintiff, a 23 year-old named Justin Stern, who claims a cyclist hit his car and whose spectacles-and-no-tie ensemble marks him as a "doucherati" aspirant:

And here's the Defendent, the 20 year-old and mellifluously-named Clark Harney, decked out in formal beige for the occasion:

Anyway, at first it seems that this is going to be just another case, but then Harney does something that will soon change the world of cycling irrevocably: He blames the collision on the fact that he was forced to take evasive action when he encountered a "salmon" in the bike lane. Here is Harney's digital (that's "digital" as in finger-based) reenactment:

And here is the actual "salmon" that Harney is attempting to finger:

(Indignant salmon does not find Harney's fingering pleasurable)

To my knowledge, this is the first time that somebody has attempted to invoke the so-called "Salmon Defense" in such an auspicious venue, and such a defense is sort of like a CO2 inflator in that you'd better be sure everything is air-tight before you use it or else it's a total waste. Sadly, Harney's case is not air-tight, and the CO2 cartridge of his defense instead explodes in a burst of gas and careens wildly about the court. Here's Judge Judy gesticulating dismissively with her thumb:

Here's a nonplussed Harney, whose caption has been downgraded from "Bike Rider" to "Admits he couldn't see what was coming:"

And here's the salmon again, looking shifty, scheming, and untrustworthy like all her kind:

In the end, Judge Judy rules that Harney must pay Stern a whopping $1,900 to cover the repairs to his car, which prompts me to wonder what kind of damage a diminutive-looking fellow like Harney could have possibly inflicted on a big hunk of metal. It seems to me you'd have to be riding a Surly Pugsley (complete with handlebar-mounted battering ram) at Mark Cavendish-like speeds to break the $1,000 barrier, and I doubt very much that Harney can unleash a sprint anything close to that of the "Man Missile." But while I smell corruption (as well as a hint of salmon) I am more concerned about the fact that Harney has effectively squandered the "Salmon Defense." Had he argued his case more effectively and the judge ruled in his favor, a legal precedent would have been set and the rest of us could successfully blame everything on salmon too and they'd become our all-purpose legal scapegoats (or scapefish). Instead, thanks to Harney's hapless finger gestures, we now can't use the "Salmon Defense" at all. I guess we'll just have to blame everything on Rollerbladers now.

Meanwhile, no sooner had I recovered from this miscarriage of justice than I learned that scientists have discovered a new breed of human beings who can drive and talk on the phone simultaneously:

Apparently, these preternatural multitaskers are called "supertaskers," and they're real-life superheroes who can perform incredible acts of schmuckery like placing calls while driving and accepting calls while driving. Unfortunately, even though "supertaskers" only make up 2.5% of the population, the remaining 97.5% of the population will now also conclude that they are "supertaskers" and, like that guy with the yogurt franchises, continue to drive around endangering the rest of us. First, salmon are allowed to run with impunity; next, you get hit by some yogurt slinger on his cellphone who taps a bevy of "experts" to testify in court that he's a medically certified "supertasker" and that he was not responsible for crushing your hopes, dreams, and bones into so much walnut topping.

But there is still hope for cyclists, and fortunately, famously car-centric Los Angeles is continuing to become more bike-friendly. First, the LAPD Chief declared his commitment to protecting cyclists. Then, the city entered into the embarrassingly ebullient "demeaning yourself" phase of its cycling evolution by playing host to a "Tweed Ride," as forwarded to me by a reader:



If you're unfamiliar with the concept of the "Tweed Ride," it's basically when a bunch of people ride their bicycles around a city while dressed as Victorians. Here's one "Faketorian" drinking from a period-correct paper cup:

Here's another piloting what appears to be a Giant Revive:

His fellow "Faketorians" call him "Captain Anachronism."

So amid all this faux-gentility, one might be tempted to ask, "Whither street cred?" Well, here it is, and it can be yours, thanks to this Craigslist ad forwarded to me by another reader:

This bike is apparently all you need to be the "Fixie King:"


It's also got a lengthy, formidable, and borderline "epic" pedigree:

MAKE ME AN OFFER FIXIE KID.

IM FRICKIN OVER IT, BUDDY, AND SO NOW IS YOUR CHANCE. EVERYONE WANTS THIS BIKE AND IF THE MONEYS RIGHT ITS YOURS.
MY MESSENGER PALS HAVE OFFERED ME BIG BUCKS COUNTLESS TIMES FOR THIS THING AND IVE ALWAYS TURNED EM DOWN, BUT I NO LONGER GIVE A RATS ASS ABOUT TRACK BIKES.
SCORE FOR YOU, YOU TIGHT PANTS ELECTRO SHOW PBR CHUGGING GIRLS HAIRCUT COKE SNORTER.

THIS BIKE HAS BEEN RACED ALL OVER THIS FREAKIN PLANET AND WON MORE CRAP THAN I'LL EVER BE ABLE TO GET RID OF. IT BEAT THE FASTEST MESSENGER IN NEW YORK (THATS RIGHT ROOKIE, IM TALKIN ABOUT FELIPE. LEARN IT. LIVE IT. KNOW IT.) IN THE FOURTH OF JULY SPRINTS AND HE WAS ON ACID AND I WAS JUST DRUNK SO THERE YA GO, COOL GUY, ITS FAST.

RIDDEN IN THE WARRIORS RACE, NYC., WINNER, BEST COLORS.

RIDDEN IN HALLOWEEN ALLEYCAT THROWN BY SQUID, NYC. TOOK MUSHROOMS, PUKED. GOT PART OF MY COSTUME IN A QUEENS BOULEVARD HOOKERS' MOUTH.

RIDDEN IN KYOTOLOCO. WINNER, TRACKSTAND. WINNER, FREESTYLE, WINNER, FOOTDOWN. WINNER, BEST OUT OF TOWN.

RIDDEN NACC, HOUSTON, TX, 2ND PLACE, TRACKSTAND

RIDDEN IN GLASGOPOLOCO, GLASGOW SCOTLAND. WINNER, 1ST OUT OF TOWN. WINNER, FREESTYLE. WINNER, TRACKSTAND. WINNER, BEST OUT OF TOWNER. WINNER, FARTHEST TRAVELLED. WINNER, OVERALL POINTS.

RIDDEN TO THE BAR. ALL OF THEM.

NEVER EVER EVER EVER RIDDEN IN CRITICAL MASS.

KHS AERO TRACK ALUMINUM TRACK RACING FRAME 57CM AND FITS LIKE A 54- 55 (SLOPED TOP TUBE, GENIUS. IT'LL FIT ANYONE WHO CAN RIDE A 53 TO A 59.),IN ORIGINAL RED COLORWAY WITH ORIGINAL LOGOS AND ACTUAL BIKE MESSENGER STICKERS PLACED LONG AGO BY AN ACTUAL WORKING WORLD TRAVELING ALLEY CATTING RACING MULTIPLE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS AND NACC ATTENDING 6 YEAR VETERAN SF BIKE MESSENGER,
ULTEGRA HEADSET BECAUSE IT CAN STAND THE ABUSE, SMART GUY. YOUY CAN RE-TUNE YOUR VINTAGE C-RECORD ONE EVERY DAY OR RUN THIS ONE AND NEVER TOUCH IT. AND ITS LIGHTER SO YOUR ARMS CAN LIFT IT, SINCE YOUVE NEVER WORKED A DAY IN YOUR LIFE AND YOU HAVE A HANGOVER.
CAMPAGNOLO 165 MM BMX CRANKS FILED TO PREVENT BREAKAGE BY A REAL ACTUAL GENUINE BONA FIDE WORKING NON ROOKIE O.G. VETERAN SAN FRANCISCO BIKE MESSENGER (NOT JUST DRESSED LIKE ONE) SO THEY WILL NOT BREAK NO MATTER HOW HOT YOU GET TRYING TO IMPRESS THAT FIXIE CHICK IN YOUR ROOMMATES FRIGGIN ALLEY CAT.
BRIGESTONE KEIRIN FORK, GREY COLORWAY, RACED ON THE KEIRIN TRACK, PURCHASED AT BRIDGESTONE KEIRIN FRAME FACTORY, KYOTO, JAPAN.
CAMPAGNOLO SEALED CARTRIDGE BOTTOM BRACKET. ONCE AGAIN, YOU CAN JACK WITH YOUR C-RECORD ONE EVERY TIME YOU WANT TO RIDE, OR RUN THIS ONE AT A WEIGHT INCREASE OF 6 GRAMS AND NEVER HAVE TO TOUCH IT AGAIN. YOUR CHOICE, BIKE EXPERT.
GOLD KEIRIN CHAIN. BLING FRIGGIN BLING.
UNOBTANIUM SEAT POST COLLAR. PHYSICALLY LIGHTER THAN AIR. ACTUALLY REDUCES WEIGHT OF BIKE BY 3 GRAMS.

THIS THING IS SET UP HOW A REAL MESSENGER SET IT UP. I KNOW BECAUSE IM THE ONE THAT BUILT IT, NOT VALENCIA CYCLERY, AND NOT CAUSE I HANDED EM 5 GRAND OF DADDYS MONEY AND SAID MAKE ME LOOK COOL.
AND SO NOW YOU CAN TAKE THAT MONEY THAT YOUR DADDY GAVE YOU FOR ART COLLEGE TUITION AND BUY THE BIKE THAT IS GUARANTEED TO GET YOU UNPROTECTED SEX IN THE BATHROOM AT THAT FIXIE HIPSTER BAR ON 16TH.

I GOT WHEELS AND TIRES AND SEATS AND SEATPOSTS AND PEDALS AND STEMS AND BARS AND ALL THAT OTHER CRAP LAYING AROUND SO IF THE MONEYS RIGHT I'LL LET YOU SET THIS THING UP AND I'LL EVEN ASSEMBLE IT FOR YOU SINCE YOUVE NEVER TOUCHED A WRENCH IN YOUR LIFE. CAMPY CAMPY CAMPY. ALL THAT CRAP IS PHIL WOOD AND KEIRIN AND CAMPY AND IT'LL GET YOU NOTICED ON VALENCIA.

SO THATS IT. YOU FIGURE OUT HOW MUCH YOU WANT THIS THING, ADD TWO ZEROS TO THE END OF THAT TO GET CLOSER TO REALITY AND EMAIL ME.

WILL SHIP.

KEYWORDS: TRACK, FIXIE, FIXED GEAR, COKE PROBLEM, ELECTRO, MOPED, VALENCIA, CAMPAGNOLO, PHIL WOOD, PABST BLUE RIBBON, HAMMS, TECATE, POPS BAR, DELIRIUM, BENDERS', ZEITGEIST, THE PHONE BOOTH, THE MAKE OUT ROOM, PERIOD BLOOD, JAY REATARD, MESSENGER, FAKENGER, POSER, ART SCHOOL, FREIGHT BAGGAGE, TIMBUKTU, SINGLE SPEED, CHOPPER, BOBBER, NIKE, REEBOK, PASTEL, ALL OVER PRINT, HIP HOP, HUF, UPPER PLAYGROUND, RETRO, TIGHT PANTS, TRANSVESTITE, ANTI HERO, ALEY CAT, MESSENGER, BIKE RACE, BICYCLE, WICKED RAD, AWESOME, SICK, HOT, SWEET, SEXY, TITS, BUTT LUBE

Not only will this bicycle make you the "Fixie King," but it will also give you at least three STDs. You might be better off sticking with Walmart.

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Bolts and Nuts: The Making of a Classic

This past weekend saw the [insert number here]th edition of the Ghent-Wevelgem professional bicycling race, which is a bicycling race in which professional bicyclists bicycle their bicycles from Gent (or "Ghent," or at least the vicinity of Ghent) to Wevelgem. Ghent, as you probably know, is in Belgium, and Wevelgem is a mythical land of faeries and imps and an autonomous city-state kind of like the Vatican or Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The race took place on Sunday, and the winner, Bernhard Eisel, had this to say:

The George he is referring to is of course George Hincapie, who came in fourth and who was himself a winner of Gent-Wevelgem back in 2001. One can only imagine how harrowing it must be to look between one's thighs and see George Hincapie coming; in fact, the last person to look between her thighs and see George Hincapie coming was former podium girl Melanie Simonneau, who subsequently married him and bore him a child. I'm sure there was a moment of horror in those final kilometers during which Eisel imagined the same fate for himself. Here he is moments before looking between his thighs:

And here's what he probably saw when he did:

In the end, this image probably gave him the final kick he needed in order to win. As for Hincapie himself, nobody knows for sure what he saw between his own thighs, but if I had to guess I'd say it was probably that oil painting of his own disembodied head watching him win a Tour de France stage atop the forbidding Pla d'Adet:

Subsequently, he got caught in the seemingly endless feedback loop of Hincapie watching Hincapie watching Hincapie (watching Hincapie, assuming you can see the Pla d'Adet-winning Hincapie reflected in the Oakleys of the disembodied head-Hincapie), and this eternal cycle of narcissism could very well have cost him his second Gent-Wevelgem win.

In any case, with Gent-Wevelgem down and the Tour of Flanders (also known as the "Round Van Floundering") coming up this weekend the "Classics" season is well under way. Of course, the Classics are classic in the classic sense of the word, meaning "recognized or established," or "memorable," or "a very good example of its kind." However, it's also worth noting that the word "classic" has evolved over the years, and now it's also synonymous with "funny," as in, "Did you see that guy in the chicken suit get kicked in the nuts by that other guy in the clown wig? That was classic!" (This despite the fact that no classical painter ever rendered such an image--at least to the best of my knowledge.) In this newer sense of the word, the Classics aren't classic, but they do have some classic moments, like in 2006 when The Great Trek Bicycle Making Company played a practical joke on Hincapie by outfitting his bicycle with a set of detachable novelty handlebars:

One Trek engineer to the other: "Did you see George's handlebars come off during a critical moment in one of the most important races of his career? That was classic!" Hopefully, we won't see too many classic moments befall our favorite Classics riders this year (at least not ones that result in serious injury), and they will all remain intact until the start of "Epic" season, which is when all the big stage races start.

Speaking of classical things, there's probably nothing less classical than a Walmart fixed-gear bicycle (or, more accurately, "fixed-speed," which I assume is their way of saying it's a singlespeed that looks like a fixed-gear), though reading the indignant comments of some of the "Fixerati" on various forums and blogs has been totally classic:

Personally, I could not be more pleased. As was the case with the Republic/Urban Outfitters bike, this is yet another blow to the carefully-constructed identities of the people who discovered track bikes in 2005 and are now trying to "save" them. Even better, unlike the overpriced Republic (not to mention the fact that that Specialized now charges over $700 for the privilege of experiencing the "purity" of a Langster), at $150 the Walmart bike actually looks like it might be a reasonable deal. Really, much of the "bike culture" seems to be about displaying your rarefied tastes and retail savvy ("savvy" in terms of finding the cool things to buy, not saving money), so anything that wrests fixed-gears or track bikes or singlespeeds or "fixed-speeds" or whatever you want to call them from the "bike culture's" smug grasp and thoroughly "uncoolifies" them is all right by me. Plus, best of all, you can customize the Cachet with stuff you find in the other departments:

That shower curtain rod will make a tight set of risers for fixed-gear freestylin'.

Anyway, any "Save the Track Bike" types who consider the Walmart bike an affront to their "lifestyle" should consider the fact that the fixed-gear bicycle has already long been cemented in the popular consciousness as a symbol of "hipster" excess, and they have only themselves to blame. Consider the book "Look At This F*cking Hipster," which is derived from the blog of the same name:

(Hint: replace the "*" with a "u" for the actual title. I know, crazy, right?)

The book officially "descends" tomorrow ("descends" is pretentious for "drops") but I recently obtained a copy thanks to my status as a member of the "doucherati" and I noticed it has a whole section on fixed-gear bicycles:

Granted, it's a short section (like three pages) but it's also a short book. Ultimately, I think all of this is an indication that the "hipsters" and the "People of Walmart" are increasingly one and the same (Isn't a "hipster" really just a "Person of Walmart" who moved to Brooklyn last month?), and this is a good thing since it helps reaffirm the fact that "coolness" is an illusion. I will admit, though, that while I'm happy about the Walmart "fixed-speed" I'm disgusted by Walmart's line of prefab sheds:

See, "back in the day," if you wanted a shed you had to build it by yourself. Plus, it took time to learn about the scene and to become down with "shed culture." Now, though, all you have to do is go to Walmart--who has totally ruined the shed scene just like Target ruined "gazebo culture." So to Walmart I say:

All You Haters Store My Lawn Care Equipment.

Still, I don't mean to say that if you want a bicycle you should buy it at Walmart. In fact, as we all know, $150 can easily become $300 or more if the bicycle or its assembly is of poor quality. Plus, if you're the type of person who feels compelled to make your bike "legit" through customization with vintage parts, it's going to take something really, really vintage to legitimize this baby. Not just any Brooks will do; you need the world's crappiest Brooks, which was forwarded to me by a reader:

Here's the compelling description:

This thing's so old it doesn't just have "street cred;" it's got "dirt road cred:"

Eric "The Chamferer" Murray was probably still playing with his chamfering knife in his bassinet when this thing was chamfered.

However, if you really want to feel special on your bike, even a lugged steel NAHBS special is insufficient. No, the truly sophisticated cyclist rides an art bike made of wood, like this one which was forwarded to me by another reader:

"Did you see that doofus totally nail himself in the nuts trying to get on his wooden bike? That was classic!"

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A Day in the Life of Jacqueline

When I initially borrowed Jacqueline, I was not sure whether I would actually use the bicycle for transportation, or just ride a bit in my spare time. But after half a day, I decided not to renew my weekly public transport card for the duration of my stay in Vienna. It is very easy to get around the city by bicycle - not just through the central touristy parts, but through Vienna proper. To demonstrate, Jacqueline will show you one of her daily routines.

At 7:00 am, we are off to the office via the Danube Canal Path - which functions like a cross-town bicycle highway through Vienna. It just so happens that both my flat and my office are close to the canal, so our route to work is pretty straightforward. Pictured above is the nearest entrance onto the path.

The Danube Canal is an offshoot of the Danube River. Both the canal and the river proper have bicycle paths running alongside, but the advantage of he canal path is that it cuts through the center.

One thing I like about it, is how green the water looks - especially in the morning. No idea whether this is due to reflection from trees or chemical pollution, but it looks nice and so I choose to believe the former.

There are some cobblestone stretches along the path, and the 28" Schwalbe Delta Cruisers on Jacqueline are just fine with them. But I have seen other cyclists get off their bikes and walk here.

Some parts of the canal path are woodsy and surreal-looking.

Jacqueline enjoys this sort of scenery the most.

Other stretches are more urban and take you closer to the main road.

That's okay too, but cycling here during rush hour will give you a nice helping of auto exhaust fumes. Have others noticed this problem in large cities? I have been told that automobile emissions in Europe (not counting former Eastern-bloc countries) are supposed to be less toxic than in the US, but my lungs seem to disagree. If anybody has more info about this, please share.

Heading toward the Southern edge of town, the scenery on the Danube Canal Path grows distinctly less picturesque. We are now cycling alongside the highway. And yes, that is a highway sign for Budapest and Bratislava. Bratislava (capital of Slovakia) is only a 45 minute drive away from this point. But instead of going there, Jacqueline heads to the office.

The landscape around my place of work is somewhat post-apocalyptic, but over time I have grown fond of it. Lots of interesting research facilities there, and I work with nice people. The total time it takes Jacqueline to cycle to the office from our flat is 20 minutes - the exact time it takes to commute using public transport.

I rarely stay at the office all day, but typically have meetings all over the city. On this day I had an afternoon meeting in a Cafe at the end of the Prater - the largest park in Vienna.

Lusthaus Cafe. Before you misunderstand what I do for a living - it's not what is sounds like in English. The name means "funhouse". This was about a 10 minute ride from the office for Jacqueline. After the meeting, we briefly returned to work, leaving in the late afternoon to run some errands.

First stop: the bank, in the city center, a 25 minute ride away. To get here, Jacqueline rode back via the Danube Canal path, and then along the Ring Road - which is another "bicycle highway" that loops around the city center.

Jacqueline then proceeded to the photo store in an adjacent district - a 15 minute ride away - to buy some film. She rode there mostly on the road, via a combination of bicycle lanes, "sharrow"-marked side streets, and unmarked side streets. The thing about "sharrows" in Vienna, is that they are mostly painted on 1-way streets against the flow of traffic. Yes, against. The speed limit on these streets is usually 30 km/h. This design goes against everything I have come to believe over the past year as a cyclist in Boston. What do you think of it? And could anybody comment whether Copenhagen and Amsterdam are the same in this respect?

After the photo store, Jacqueline was locked up on a main shopping street and waited a bit while I met a friend for coffee. Then we went to the grocery store Billa.

Jacqueline was proud that she could fit 1/2 week's worth of groceries and my laptop bag into a single pannier. (She is lazy and did not want to open the second one.)

As dusk approached, we cycled home - once again via a combination of roads, then the Ring Path via the route described here. All in all, I would estimate that Jacqueline did a couple of hours of back and forth cycling, and this was typical of how much I travel through the city on an average day in Vienna. Normally all of these trips would have been done using public transport. The travel time by bike is about the same.

I rode Jacqueline for transportation for the last week of my stay in Vienna. It was wonderful and made up for my bad luck earlier this month. I now feel like an idiot that I didn't just buy a bicycle when I lived here for longer stretches in previous years. Cycling in the countryside on my days off was nice, but I have to say that commuting by bike in Vienna is even nicer. And regardless of what the local shops might tell you, a 3-speed is sufficient to tackle "hilly Vienna". I am by no means in the best shape and had no trouble. Of course, the vintage magic of Jacqueline might play a role in that as well. But in any case - if you are in Vienna, get a bicycle and enjoy the city, whether you are a leisurely visitor or work at a fast-paced job!

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