The Age of the Epic Commuter: Raising the Bar, then Flattening It

Last week, I mentioned that article in The New Yorker about cycling in Rwanda. Since finishing it, I have moved onto other portions of the magazine, and this morning I found myself reading about a bunch of bands giving a concert on Rikers Island. In case you don't know, Rikers Island is jail, and evidently the people who live there are somewhat resistant to gentrification. This is a band called Zongo Junction:

And here's what happened during their set:

The band's inspiration is the Nigerian activist Fela Kuti, but in presentation--beards, plaid shirts, a trucker hat--its influences smelled a little of Bushwick. This, coupled with the general monotony of incarceration, seemed to leave them vulnerable to heckling from above: "Get the fuck out!," for instance, followed by "Play Bob Marley." The band launched into "Stir It Up," which only emboldened some of the distant voices: "More Bob Marley, or Ima fucking kill you!"

Well, at least the inmates didn't use the "h" word. I do kind of want a t-shirt that says "More Bob Marley, or Ima fucking kill you" though--even if it is a little hilpstery.

Actually, I wonder if high-end cycling clothier Rapha would consider making such a shirt, since the slogan is easily as catchy as anything Jens Voigt has ever said. They could use marino, incorporate shoulder pads for easy "portaging," and charge $175 for it.

Speaking of Rapha, you may recall my mentioning I had taken part in the Rapha 2011 Northeast Gentlemen's Race. Or you may not recall. Or you may recall and not care. Regardless, I did, and I'm pleased to announce that the Raphafied "edit" of this race has finally "dropped." Please note that it's shot in Raph-O-Vision, and that you'll need to wear your 3-E (that's Triple-"Epic") glasses in order to see it properly:

2011 Rapha NE Gentlemen's race from RAPHA on Vimeo.

I learned a lot from this video. In particular, I learned why they call it an "edit," and that's because my team was edited out of it. Yes, there's not a single millisecond of footage of us, even though we were one of only nine teams that managed to finish:

Now, I wouldn't ordinarily brag, but in this case I'm making an exception since the race was like 482 miles long with like 275,000 feet of climbing, so I was very proud of my team. Sure, I know that barely qualifies as brevet in rando-nerd circles, but for a bunch of roadie wussbags it's a lot. Anyway, I'm not even bragging for myself. Rather, I'm bragging for the rest of my team, since they were amazing and I just sat behind them the whole time, like this:

(They totally would have won if it wasn't for me.)

By the way, my team was called "BSNYC," but it's pronounced "LAY-oh-pard Trek." I'd thank them each member here by name, but frankly I think they're all embarrassed to be associated with me, so I'll just thank them in the aggregate to spare them the ignominy. I'd also like to thank Team C3, who we joined for the latter part of the race.

As for why we got snubbed for the video, the best we could come up with were: 1) Our kits didn't match; and 2) We actually smiled occasionally. I'm guessing that second one was the killer, since smiling in a Rapha video is like whipping out your "pants yabbies" on "Sesame Street."

And of course I couldn't have done any of it without BicycleBungee™:

BicycleBungee™ Promotional Video Pronunciation Guide:

"Air"="EEE-yah"

"Effort"="EEE-faht"

"Companion"="LAY-oh-pard Trek"

Speaking of "epics," a reader has forwarded me this article from the New York Times about a reporter who will cycle across Canada's dental dam:

I enjoyed the article and I wish him the best. However, I also couldn't help noticing his flat bar bicycle. As he explains it:

It has a titanium frame (that is, it’s very light); handlebars that go straight across, rather than drop, to keep me more upright (I’ve got a neck problem); especially durable wheels and tires.

I certainly wouldn't argue against his comfort, and I'm assuming that as a cycle touring veteran he knows what works best for him. Nevertheless, we seem to be in a new Age of the Flat Bar, and I must admit I'm still traumatized by that designer hybrid "commuter" from a few weeks back:

Not only that, but I just saw on Prolly's blog that the same company, Firefly, has designed another so-called "commuter" that makes the one above seem eminently logical:

(Commuter?!?)

Now, I should point out that I have nothing whatsoever against Firefly, and that they're obviously extremely talented builders. Their customers, on the other hand, are clearly the kind of crazy that only comes with having way too much money, or syphilis, or maybe both. Honestly, who pays that much money to commute on a mountain bike? Does he not know that if you work at Ikea they give you a bike like that for free?

The only way I can make sense of this bike is that maybe he just wanted a really nice mountain bike, but he felt guilty about buying himself one for some reason, so he called it a "commuter" instead to justify the price. Smug people think that commuting by bicycle equals "saving the world," so by calling any bicycle a "commuter" it automatically allows you to spend as much on it as you would a car.

Or, maybe he really does need a crazy offroad commuter like this. Because, you know, he lives on the surface of the Moon.

Anyway, once upon a time, if you wanted to ride around the city on a mountain bike with your bars way higher than your saddle, you went to Walmart and you bought yourself a Mongoose. Now, people are actually buying custom bikes to replicate this riding experience. So what are people actually buying at Walmart now?

Well, you'd be surprised. It turns out they've come a long way since that first Mongoose Cachet, and their offerings include "haute tarck," complete with stylishly curved seat tube:

Classic fixie:


And even (this one really surprised me) full-on Dutch-style "cycle chic:"


Meanwhile the guy with the Firefly is paying a zillion dollars to replicate the ride of his beloved 1998 Pacific with the unhooked v-brakes.

I never thought I'd see it, but I guess it's finally happened: the dreaded Walmart/custom inversion.

I can't wait until I can finally buy a "More Bob Marley, or Ima fucking kill you!" t-shirt at Target.

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Pilen Contest Winner and Other Updates

Thank you so much once again to everybody who took the time to create the wonderful images paying tribute to Swedish cinema and the bicycle! After much deliberation I am pleased to announce that there is a winner. Over the course of the past week, I wavered between eight finalists. In the end, I took into account not only the image itself (it was really impossible to choose on that account alone), but also how suitable I thought the Pilen would be for the person.

Without further ado: The winner of the contest is Amanda Hamilton, and this was her picture:

To create this striking image, Amanda cut out a paper silhouette of the bicycle, then shot footage of herself and played it on a loop while filming the cut-out in front of it.

This is the paper cut-out that served as the bicycle model. I was surprised and intrigued by this entry, both in terms of its creative interpretation of the guidelines and in terms of how labor intensive it must have been. It was only one of my favourite images, but when I contacted Amanda over email it became apparent that she and the Pilen would be a good match on many levels. Congratulations!

Over the course of the next two weeks I will be finished with my review, and then the bicycle will be shipped to the winner. I hope it is understandable that this is a demo model that I have been now riding for a month - so there will be some scuffs and other mild signs of use. Happily, the Pilen is very durable and my intense testing has left it none the worse for wear. Many thanks again to Pilen's North American distributor BoxCycles for donating the beautiful bicycle and making this give-away possible.

I would also like to update you on other contests, past and future:

The winner of the Po Campo Spare Pocket give-away, sponsored by Planet Gear, has been named, and will receive this enigmatic item shortly from Planet Gear directly.

The winner of the Bella Ciao Superba give-away is being a good sport and waiting patiently, as the bicycles are running fashionably late and have not arrived in the US yet! More on this soon, and they are on their way as I write this.

And finally, after some delay the Lovely Touring Bike contest is coming up next! I have some ideas for this one, but am not yet sure what the rules for it will be. Requests and suggestions welcome!



Many thanks to everybody once again for taking part in the give-aways and I will try my best to keep them going. And of course, thank you for reading Lovely Bicycle!

Oh, and can anyone tell what that camera is, resting on the Pilen's rear rack, and during what years it was produced? A roll of 35mm film for the first person to post the answer : )

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Adjustable Stem!

When I wrote about wanting a longer stem on one of my bikes, several people suggested I get ahold of a vintage adjustable stem. I did not know that such a thing existed, but clearly there is much I don't know.

Long story short, I am now in the temporary possession of a 3ttt Record Regolabile adjustable stem, on loan courtesy of Jan Heine of the Bicycle Quarterly. I decided to use it not on my own bike, but on the Royal H. randonneur collaboration - it just looked so appropriate.

Produced in the 1970s by Tecno Tubo Torino of Italy, this elegant stem adjusts from (I think) 6 cm to 12 cm. Here is more information about it and some close-up pictures. The beauty of this system is that it combines the vertical adjustability of the quill stem with the horizontal adjustability of the threadless stem (with the latter you can swap out stems without redoing your handlebar set-up). Why are things like this not being made anymore? Those of us who constantly change our minds about handlebar positions would find it extremely useful. Right now I have it adjusted for 8 cm, but who knows what the future holds - I am looking forward to playing around with this! 

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BSNYC Friday Grammer Rodeo and Spealing Bee!

Yesterday, I mentioned an article in the current issue of the The New Yorker. The article was called "Climbers," and it concerned cycling in Rwanda. Here's a link to the summary, and here's a picture of the picture from it once again:



At the time I first mentioned it I hadn't finished it, but I have since found sufficient bathroom time to do so, and not to be a noodge or anything but I'd just like to reiterate that the article is well worth reading. It was a genuine pleasure to read bike racing-themed prose that didn't consist of doping-related moralizing, or effusive product reviews, or people with $2,000 wheels and electronic shifting complaining that their Cat 4 race results weren't posted online quickly enough. (Hint: if you don't know where you placed, you lost, and I say this as someone who has a perfect record of losing.)

I should also point out that I don't exclude my own prose from the Canon of Inanity, and in fact yesterday I was taken to task by a reader for using the "h" word. (If you don't know what the "h" word is, click here.) Now, he had some legitimate concerns, but the problem remains: what am I supposed to call someone riding a $3,000 track bike, sporting $5,000 in tattoo ink, and wearing a shirt like this when it's 60 degrees?

(The rapper Meh-minem prepares to rob a fixie boutique.)

When you see a fellow in a Primal jersey riding a top-of-the-line Madone with roughly 19 feet of headset spacers and an adjustable stem, you call him a "Fred." When you see a person riding a time trial bike in a tank top and hot pants, you call him a "tri geek." When you see a rider in a Saxo Bank jersey on the side of the road throwing his bike into a ditch in frustration, you call him "Alberto Contador." When you see someone on a recumbent with a beard of fire and a homemade machine gun turret mounted to his cockpit, you don't call him anything. Instead, you run, run, run!

So why don't we get to call the guy in the fixed-gear turtleneck anything? He's not dangerous, even though he tries to look it. What makes him so special that he doesn't get a goofy name like the rest of us do? Plus, more importantly, if we don't call him anything it means that wearing a $120 shirt on your face in mild weather is normal, which it most decidedly isn't, no matter how "fast" you are.

And trust me, I'm under no illusions that I don't look ridiculous myself. I went in for a haircut yesterday and the barber took one look at me and said, "You must be a writer." In terms of personal grooming habits, this is a moment of clarity akin to waking up after a bender with no pants on and your head in a public toilet. It's when you realize something's got to change.

Still, maybe we need to diffuse the "h" word in the way we defused that other "h" word by saying "helment" instead. Maybe the "h" word will go down a bit easier if we call shirt-on-face guy and his ilk "hilpsters." Sure, it's a little extra typing, but I'm fine with it if you are. The last thing I want to do is hurt anybody's feelings.

Lastly, it's interesting (at least to me as an amateur pop culture linguist) to note that, like the "h" word, the word "fixie" was also once in common parlance but is now considered off-limits. This is because it has been rejected by the sorts of people who discovered the bikes just a few years ago. (That is to say, "hilpsters.") Oddly, this only makes the word "fixie" more fun to say, and I now find myself going out of the way to use it. From this I draw two conclusions: 1) People don't like when you remind them that there's an old name for what they're doing because it makes them feel less original, and 2) I am kind of a dick.

And lastly lastly, don't confuse the word "parlance" with the word "palance."

Finally, post-penultimately, I'll remind you to please note that my Bicycling.com Tour de France-themed postings continue (though not necessarily on a daily basis) and if you care to know when they're published simply check my Tweeter.

With that, I'm pleased to present you with a short quiz after a short week. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right then palance, and if you're wrong you'll see crazy hilpsters.

Thanks very much for reading, ride safe, and if you get chilly you can always save $120 and pull your shirt over your face.

--Wildcat Rock Machine

(20th century vocabulary, 21st century open-mindedness--just don't get him started on the Jews.)

1) Which culturally insensitive term did Phil Liggett use while commentating on this year's Tour de France?

--"Colored"

--"WASP"

--"Frenchie"

--"Hipster"

(Topless trackstands are timeless.)

2) Solo trackstands are out; two-man trackstands are in.

--True

--False

(Triple for the climbs, HED 3 to outrun the pandas.)

3) The latest in organic bicycle frame building material is:

--Bamboo

--Hemp

--Clay

--Bone

("This ain't no hilpster shilt.")

4) The "h" word may very well be the most loaded word of 2011.

--True

--False

("Sign my manifest, baby.")

5) "Alleycats" are outlaw bicycle races meant to replicate the workday of an urban messenger--assuming that messenger works in:

--New York City

--Boston

--Candy Land

--A Harry Potter novel

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Talk to Me About 'Off Road'...

Almost every cyclist I'm friendly with loves to ride off road. And when I admit that I don't love it so much, the reaction is that of dismay. "What? But you like Rivendell! But you write about randonneuring! But you showed so much promise cycling on those scenic beach trails!" Well yes... And yet I prefer pavement.

Of course, everyone has their own ideas of what "off road" is. For some, anything that's not paved qualifies. For others, only the really treacherous, narrow trails are worthy of the label. I tend to use the former definition, but often get corrected ("Oh, well that's not off road; that's just dirt roads!") - which of course only makes me feel more of a sissy. I can handle fire trails if they are packed dirt with occasional pebbles and roots, but I draw the line at loose gravel that slips out from under my tires, and trails fraught with large rocks and ditches that I need to navigate around at speed. It feels unsafe, and when I feel unsafe no amount of romantic photos or assurances that "it'll be fine!" from ride companions can induce me to go on. Maybe it'll be fine for them, but I need to think for myself and my brain screams "don't do it; you'll perish!"

But maybe I exaggerate. When we were in Rockport last weekend, the Co-Habitant lured me onto some trails ("we'll walk our bikes to the water") and I ended up riding on 23mm tires over dirt and gravel.  I've also found myself intentionally taking my bikes on unpaved parts of local trails lately, maybe to test the waters.

As August approaches, people are talking about the D2R2 (Deerfield Dirt-Road Randonnée) - a notoriously hilly, strenuous ride through Western Massachusetts and Vermont, held entirely on winding dirt roads. I considered trying to do the "easy" (40 mile) route, but based on the stories I hear even that might be out of my league. It would be good to read a ride report from someone whose comfort zone is similar to mine, to get an accurate idea of what it is really like.

But wait a minute, why would I even want to go to something like the D2R2 if I don't enjoy cycling off road? Maybe because I want to like it, or keep hoping that I'll like it if I just give it another chance. There is so much beauty that can't be seen from paved roads, and it's a shame to miss it. Now if only I could learn to climb and descend on loose gravel without panicking and getting off my bike immediately!

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Chrome Pasha Hoodie: Wool That Feels Like a Real Sweatshirt?

Hooded sweatshirts are the comfort food of clothing: There is something so snuggly and relaxing about them, that just putting one on at the end of a long day can improve my mood. Before I started cycling I was a fan of this garment and wore it frequently when not in my dressy attire. But I soon discovered that I can't really wear hoodies on a bicycle: I sweat too much and the thick cotton eventually turns into a heavy wet rag. Comfort food no more. Wool manufacturers have attempted to address this issue by making their own versions of the hoodie. I've tried these from Ibex, Icebreaker and one other company I can't recall, hoping to find a replacement for my beloved cotton sweatshirts.  But the wool versions only vaguely resemble the real thing; something is off about the texture and feel. Thus jaded, when Chrome offered me to review their "Pasha" hoodie I expected more of the same. But I am glad to report that I was wrong.

Whatever else might be said about the Pasha, I think it is crucial to recognise that Chrome did it: They made a wool sweatshirt that feels like a "real" sweatshirt and not like a wool sweater pretending to be a sweatshirt. The inside is fluffy and impeccably soft, the outside feels convincingly sweatshirt-like to the touch. The weight, the texture - everything is just like the hoodies I am used to. The asymmetrically placed zipper and structured tailoring add a contemporary touch.

The design of the Pasha is cycling-specific, in that it is semi-form fitting and is cut longer in the back than in the front. I have read some reviews complaining that the cut is too narrow around the chest and too generous around the middle, and I somewhat agree. But I have a modestly sized chest, so the narrowness in that region works well for me. The middle is indeed roomy, but I do not find the cut unflattering. I am a US women's size 4, and the "Small" hoodie is just about spot on.

The hood is tight around the head and neck without requiring pull-strings. I've worn it on a roadbike in windy thunderstorms, and it did not get blown off over the course of the ride as other hoods tend to.

I admit that once I took these photos I blacked out the Chrome logo, which is just too prominent for my taste. I suggest they consider making a subdued version of it, as many don't like displaying branding on their clothing. (And yes, I realise the irony of this photo as I write this - but bicycle logos are different!)

My one major real complaint about the design of the Pasha is that the thumb loops are not practical when riding a roadbike; they dig into the space between my thumb and forefinger when I stretch my arms to reach the drop bars. So unless I am riding an upright bike with a short reach, I end up not using them. I will probably sew up the holes in the sides of the sleeves.

A lesser complaint is that I do not like the exposed metal zipper. It's cold and "unfriendly," in contrast to the overall feel of the hoodie. The zippers they use on the pockets feel much better, so I would love the central one to be replaced with something in that vein.

Yet another minor complaint is an aesthetic one. There is maroon stitching in some parts of the hoodie, apparently for decorative reasons. This is nice in itself, but it clashes with the primary-red stitching next to the pockets, as well as with the Chrome logo and with the fabric of the same colour inside the pockets. Maybe this is a personal thing, but the combination of the maroon and the primary red looks off to me.

Finally, I should note that the Pasha is made in China, unlike some of Chrome's other items.

The Pasha has two zippered side pockets - one much larger than the other, due to the asymmetrical placement of the central zipper. The larger pocket easily fits a wallet, point and shoot camera, or sandwich. The smaller pocket will fit a mobile phone or keys. There is also a large zippered rear pocket that will fit the contents of both side pockets together. The pockets have meshy interiors and can also be used for added breathability.

As far as weather conditions, I find the Pasha best for cold weather and mild rain - which we've been having a lot of here, even in the summer. In May and June we had stretches of days with temperatures in the 40s-50s, continuous rain, and this horrible bone-piercing dampness. The Pasha kept me warm, not sweaty, and mostly dry from the rain. Being wool, it is wearable in warmer temperatures as well, certainly into the lower 70s.

I've had this hoodie since March and have washed it three times on account of getting it covered in mud while riding a fenderless bike. It is durable and takes well to being washed and dried.

The most enjoyable thing for me about the Chrome Pasha, is that it has all the properties of 100% wool while feeling like a real sweatshirt. The design could be tweaked, but I'll take it even as is. It's great to be able to wear a hoodie on a bike without the "wet rag" effect.

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The Grand Scheme of Things: A Bold Caper

In yesterday's post, I discussed the implications of non-hipster-on-hipster crime. Certainly there is no greater tragedy than when youthful idealists are forced to confront the realities of urban living.

Or is there?

What happens when hipster actually robs hipster, which is what happened not too long ago when the MASH store in San Francisco experienced a break-in and a couple of bikes were stolen:
Despite the outfits, I'm actually not totally convinced that this was the work of hipsters, since hipsters love "authentic" accessorizing and this seems like an irresistible opportunity to finally wear some super cool "vintage" villain clothes à la Black Bart in "A Christmas Story:"

Then again, they were stealing bicycles, and riding in burglar clothes would have offended their sensibilities. I wish I had been present as they hatched styled the caper over $5 coffees on Valencia Street:

Burglar 1: "So what should we wear?"

Burglar 2: "Like, villain clothes, obviously."

Burglar 1: "But we can't ride in villain clothes. Will there be time to change into tight pants and cycling caps?"

Burglar 2: "Probably not. OK, let's just wear tight jeans and cycling caps then."

Burglar 1: "Can I at least wear a giant Chrome bag that says 'SWAG' on it?"

And so forth.

By the way, if you're wondering what the MASH store is, it is not a shop that sells action figures of B.J. Hunnicut, "Hot Lips" Houlihan, and Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger:

Rather, MASH is a fashionable bicycle-themed design concern that puts their "M" logo on Cinelli stuff and produces videos of themselves running lights while wearing backpacks:

("Out of the way! Can't you see I'm wearing a backpack!?!")

Anyway, a crime like this is not only a violation of the law, but it's also an egregious violation of the social contract. By charging extra for stuff with a logo on it, Companies like MASH provide an essential branding service in the hipster community, and when rogue hipsters refuse to pay a premium for this service it threatens to undermine the entire hipster economy. Worse even is the loss of trust, for the hipster community depends on its members constantly validating both themselves and each other. We can't have them regarding one another with suspicion. A house divided cannot stand--even if that house is in a fashionably distressed and rapidly gentrifying part of town.

By the way, while I may be making light of the theft, I certainly don't condone it. However, in the grand scheme of misfortune and injustice it is a fairly minor occurrence. Some broken glass, a missing fixie, a pair of fugitive hipsters bickering over which boutique hotel to hide out in and whether or not being "on the lam(b)" is technically vegan... Despite all this, life in San Francisco will continue on as it has for years: smugly, and with an overinflated sense of self-importance.

The truth is, there are places in the world where people are far more accustomed to hardship, and where tragedy is a way of life. Needless to say, I have never been anywhere near any of these places, but I do like to read about them in comfort and safety in magazines like the New Yorker:

In fact, I am currently reading the issue above, and in it is a very interesting article about cycling in Rwanda which looks like this when it's lying on my floor:

I haven't actually finished the article yet because my helper monkey, Vito, is reading it to me and he has an irritating tendency to get distracted by matters of simian onanism. However, I've been quite engrossed by it (though not as much as Vito can become engrossed by himself), and among the riders profiled in it is Gasore Hategeka:

Gasore Hategeka bought his first bicycle in 2008. It cost thirty-five thousand Rwandan francs, roughly sixty dollars. Gasore, who was about twenty years old, had worked for nearly half his life before he could afford it.

After buying the bike, he becomes a "taxi-biker," and eventually "Cat 6"es his way onto Team Rwanda under the tutelage of Jonathan Boyer. If nothing else, it serves to put all those "must-have upgrades" into perspective, and it's the sort of article that should be ready by every Fred who has so much as contemplated buying a $2,000 set of wheels. It's also a welcome respite from the idiotic musings of John Cassidy:

("I think, therefore I douche."--Douchecartes)

Speaking of fostering cycling, the National Interscholastic Cycling Association is in the midst of its "East Coast Outreach Tour:"

The goal, basically, is to make mountain biking a high school sport:

NICA’s mission is to bring the sport of mountain biking to high schools coast-to-coast by 2020, and a major step in that direction is the NICA East Coast Outreach Tour. Matt Fritzinger, NICA’s Founder and Executive Director, will be joined by our new Development Director, Ben Capron, for a 6-day whirlwind tour of the East Coast. Stops have been chosen because supporters there are already dreaming of a NICA league in their state – NICA wants to make that dream a reality!

Each stop will include an evening event, sponsored by a local organization, to include a presentation, Q&A, drinks and snacks. Come out and see what NICA is all about. Let’s bring NICA coast-to-coast!

Racing bicycles (albeit of the smaller-wheeled BMX variety) was very important to me in my youth. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it was something of a salvation--a life preserver that saved me from drowning in a sea of thick accents, thicker hair gels, and impossibly lavish Bar Mitzvahs. They may have it tough in Rwanda, but they know not the horrors of being trapped in a temple as an unironically bemulleted band belts out the greatest hits of the 1980s and aging garmentos dance to lukewarm renditions of "Celebration" by Kool & The Gang. Therefore, anything that makes bike racing more accessible to our youth and offers them an alternative pursuit is all right by me.

So get involved--because I won't, but I do like the idea of someone doing it for me.

But while I would love for cycling to become more mainstream, I still have my reservations about those tourist rental bikes with which the bridges are always teeming at this time of year--even if the bike rental facilities are staffed by "blond bearded dreamboats:"

Blond Bearded Dreamboat at Brooklyn Bridge Park bike rental stand - w4m - 28 (Brooklyn Bridge Park)
Date: 2011-07-06, 10:58AM EDT
Reply to:

I was all lost on my bike on a Sunday, so I went to the bike rental booth and asked your co-worker gal for a map and how to get to the Kent greenway...aka Williamsburg. She was all what do you mean yeah I have no idea because I live the opposite direction but this dude probably knows, he lives in Williamsburg. And you DID know, it was so helpful. I focused on your wonderful directions and I pretty much had them down UNTIL you like, smiled at me or like maybe slightly a little bit looked into my SOUL before I turned away to leave and oh my gosh you have blue eyes and wait a minute where am I oh yeah my bike I'm leaving now what was that?
So yeah, that was intense dude! Did you do that on purpose?

You live in Williamsburg. I live in Greenpoint! Email me! Let's go on a bike adventure!

ps your directions were totally helpful! Despite you having disoriented me with your all that soul-looking, I remembered them and totally made it home super easily. Thanks! I seriously would've been literally lost without you.

It's bad enough that most of the the people who rent these bikes can barely ride them, but it's even worse that some of the staff can't give directions from the Brooklyn Bridge to Williamsburg--and that those who can are lauded as heroes. Perhaps scariest of all though is that the person renting the bike is not a tourist and lives adjacent to Williamsburg in Greenpoint, yet can't find her way home. I mean, how did she get there in the first place?

She might as well just ride backwards for all the attention she's paying:

It's the new frontwards.

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