Sweetest Ta-glue: Putting the "Sade" in "Crusade"

As I mentioned yesterday, a cyclist in "full racing gear" recently hit a 73 year-old woman in Central Park and then rode away. To date, this cyclist has not been apprehended. However, thanks to the popular Twitter social networking site, it seems as though the perpetrator may have inadvertently surrendered himself:

He doesn't mention that he also knocked out at least one grandmother (that we know about), but he was probably constrained by Twitter's draconian 140 character limit.

Alas, there was a time when professional cyclists had that quality called "class." In the days of toeclips, downtube shifters, and amphetamines, a rider like Eddy Merckx or Freddy Maertens would always stop and tend to his victim before returning to training. There is an oft-told story familiar to any cycling fan in which Joop Zoetemelk hit an elderly woman and administered seventeen stitches to her using a tubular tire repair kit and the brandy in his bidon for disinfectant and anesthesia. Sadly, the woman died from an infection two weeks later, but even on her death bed she praised Zoetemelk for his gentlemanliness and chivalry. (You can expect Rapha to commemorate this great moment in cycling history soon by offering a $250 Joop Zoetemelk open wound sewing kit, which is the perfect complement to their luxurious and idiotic bespoke suit and absolutely essential for that "epic" ride in which either flesh wounds or wardrobe malfunctions feature prominently.)

It would seem though that those days are gone forever. Now, Alberto Contador attacks Andy Schleck, and George Hincapie totally "coldcocks" some old broad and then just rides away. There was a time you would be honored simply to be a "wheelsucker" behind a pro, but the truth is that the "crabon hoops" of today are simply not worthy of sucking as were the 36-spoke box-section rims of yesteryear. This is why, when I'm seeking that slight aero advantage on my commute, I no longer surreptitiously choose the wheel of the pro or the pro-aspirant (also known as the "Fred"). Instead, I choose wholesome riders such as the Chionesu Bakari youth group:

They may not be fast, but they have integrity.

Speaking of riding competitively when it is not warranted, esteemed commenter "Daddo One" informs me that Senator Scott Brown totally "threw down" at the Pan-Massachusetts Challenge charity ride, and that this Trek TTX was his Fredly weapon of choice:

I was particularly impressed by his choice of foot retention:

The large platform allows for maximum power transfer to the beefy bottom bracket junction, propelling the bike forward with maximum efficiency and leaving other charity riders gasping in your slipstream. Here's a closer look:


Celebrity coaching brand Chris Carmichael says it's a highly effective system, especially when used in conjunction with a power meter of some kind:

Word among the charity ride GC contenders is that Brown had it pinned at "Daring" the whole time:

(By the way, Daddo One is still raising funds for the ride, so if you're feeling either flush or charitable or appreciative of photos of senatorial tri bikes probably purchased with campaign donations, please donate on his behalf here.)

Meanwhile, the finger-mounted power meters of many Williamsburg, Brooklyn residents have gone from "Relaxed" to "Tense," for it seems that an "anti-bike vigilante" who calls himself "The Bike Crusader" is running around and putting a once-popular brand of novelty adhesive in their locks:

"These Yuppies are ruining the whole damn city," says The Bike Crusader, invoking a term that fell out of common parlance back in the 1980s when Jay McInerny and Oliver Stone were still relevant. In fact, between his vocabulary and his choice of adhesive (Krazy Glue was the go-to glue back in the Reagan era) it would seem that The Bike Crusader superglued his mind closed sometime back in 1986 and resolved never to let anything new enter it ever again. (This could be why he missed the boat that took all of his neighbors to Staten Island, a magical land where it is forever the 1980s, over 25 years ago.) So while I'm sure some "hipsters" are very upset that they can't access their IROs, my guess is that The Bike Crusader will soon tire of bicycles and move on to his next target, which will be some other symbol of 1980s "yuppification" such as sushi restaurants, avocados, or the music of Sade. Perhaps he will even reinvent himself as the California Roll Crusader. In the meantime, look for somebody in late-middle age driving a Cutlass with a Greek coffee cup accidentally glued to his fingers and an irrational hatred of cordless phones.

Speaking of artifacts from the 1980s, stylized versions of something once called "bike messengers" still ply the streets of New York City in designer clothing and expensive nylon accessories, which must be why so-called "Hollywood" is making that "Double Rush" movie. Indeed, news continues to pour in from the increasingly beleaguered set, for a reader recently passed by a shoot and photographed this crabon fribé Parlee wonderbike:

I can only assume it will be used in the final chase scene, when the messenger breaks his chain on the hill in Central Park and commandeers some "yuppie" traditional Fred's "whip." However, chances are it won't be nearly as exciting and inspirational as Robin Moore's (otherwise known as "MC Spand-X") new film:



It's going to be like "Rad," only with irony.

Meawhile, the fixed-gear trend has elephant trunk-skidded its way to New Zealand, though it seems to have left its trademark irony behind. In fact, the media covering the trend seem to be more ironic than the participants, for a reader recently sent me this video in which an interviewer clad only in bib shorts speaks to a fixed-gear scenester:

Then, they all gather in the studio where they discuss the usual fixie clichés, like the one about how not having brakes makes you a safer rider, and at no point did the riders evidence any indication that they had any awareness of how silly any of this was:

I did learn something new, though, which is that they don't call it "fixed-gear" in New Zealand. Instead, they have a completely different term for it, which is "foxed ghee." I'm not sure where the term "foxed ghee" comes from , but as far as I can tell it's some sort of obscure culinary reference.

Lastly, from Brian in Minneapolis (the number one bike city in the United States, but only because they didn't wait for Portland when it dropped its chain) comes this inspiring cockpit:

This cockpit contains three of my favorite elements: bar ends; creatively-mounted mountain bike levers; and of course marble bar tape:

Using marble grip tape on your bike is the equivalent of sponge painting your walls--both of which are sure to infuriate The Bike Crusader.