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Today’s Post Will Be Short But Short

Hello!Just a quick post to introduce you to my new hero.  No, not the YouTuber who’s been riding around the city with a car horn bolted to his bike, but the woman who gives him what for about five seconds into one of his most recent videos: Is it … Continue reading »

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Fire and Fury: Live Every Wednesday Like It’s Your Last

Further to yesterday’s post, you’ll be pleased (or perhaps disappointed) to learn that both my wheels:And my saddle:Were still there after hours of sitting unattended in midtown Manhattan.This could mean that both the Abus NutFix and the Hiplok Z LOK p… Continue reading »

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BSNYC Product Test: My Nuts Are On Lockdown

As a world famous bike blogger and noted author of books, people occasionally offer to send me stuff to try.  (When I say “stuff” I mean equipment, not casseroles or homemade wine.)  Often I decline, mostly owning to the fact that things are pretty chaotic over at my château, and anything that crosses the threshold is liable to wind up getting flushed down the terlet by my two year-old before I have a chance to try it.  However, every so often something piques my interest, and so I say, “Ah, what the hell, send it on over.”

One such item was the Abus NutFix, which may sound like a cutting-edge medical treatment you’d need to seek if botched a cyclocross remount, but is in fact a theft-proof locking skewer system:

Basically the idea is that when the bike’s upright you can’t get it open, but when you lie the bike down horizontally you can slide the cover off of the nut and open it up with an 8mm wrench:

Which is great as long as you don’t park your bike like this:

Nice parking job. (Photo by my wife @SaraWillowNYC )

— Bike Snob NYC (@bikesnobnyc) August 1, 2017

This product appealed to me because I’ve been using my Surly Travelers check for a lot of my city riding these days and I’m tired of carrying around like three locks and/or taking the front wheel off:

Of course, once the box containing the Abus NutFix skewers arrived back in April I promptly set it aside and didn’t get around to opening it until this very morning.

I need a larger staff.

Anyway, the first thing I did upon opening the package was try to unlock the nut by holding the skewer vertically, but try as I might I couldn’t get it to work.  I must have stood there in the kitchen for about 40 minutes, tugging and twisting the thing to no avail like a monkey trying to open a combination lock.  Finally, I realized that what sets us apart from our simian siblings is the ability to operate the Internet, and so after roughly four seconds of G–gling I discovered I first had to push down on the nut and then give it a pull.

Yes, I realize all of this sounds totally obscene, but there’s really no way around it.

Once I got that down and was confident I wouldn’t wind up stranded and unable to fix a flat on a cold dark night on they went, and then I headed to Midtown where the bike is sitting outside as I type this:

That’s about the closest I’ve got to a “fancy” set of wheels (they came with my Ritte Rustbucket) so it should be interesting to see of they’re still there when I return.  Oh, here’s how they look when they’re installed:

It seems like a decent system, but of course it all hinges on having that 8mm wrench when you need it.  Naturally I’ve added one to my Surly’s tool roll:

But inasmuch as an 8mm wrench isn’t the sort of thing you’re likely to find on a typical multitool it’s easy to see how you might find yourself without one at a crucial juncture.

Oh, and while I was testing the NutFix I figured I’d also test that Hiplok “Z LOK:”

Yes, a reusable locking zip tie with a steel core is all that is securing my Brooks Cambium from the thieves of New York City:

Will see what happens.

Oh, and for the millionth time because it always comes up, yes, I suppose if a thief was familiar with the S&S coupler system then he or she could help themselves to half a bicycle if they were so inclined:

However, I’m willing to bet that if the bike gets stolen it’s going to be an all-or-nothing scenario.

I’ll keep you posted.

In other news, everybody’s heard by now that Steuart and Tom Walton have bought Rapha:

Honestly I’m just surprised there are that many giant Freds in the world:

Mr Mottram said the investment would enable Rapha to accelerate its global expansion plans.

“It heralds the start of the next stage of our journey and is testament to the growth and potential that people see in Rapha and in cycling,” he added.

Rival firms, including Aston Martin shareholder Investindustrial, were reported to have been interested in Rapha, which was valued at a reported £200m.

Though I’m not sure about this:

“Who was really interested in cycling back in 2001 and 2002? It was just something us weirdos did.”

I dunno, 2001 and 2002 were Lance Armstrong’s third and fourth Tour de France wins, and if I remember correctly the Steamroller of Fredliness had already attained unstoppable momentum–though either way there’s no question that Rapha’s timing was impeccable.  And while everybody’s relishing the fact that the Waltons are heirs to the Walmart fortune, I think the real irony is that the quintessential roadie clothing company got bought by a couple of mountain bikers:

Brothers Steuart and Tom Walton are grandsons of Walmart founder Sam Walton, and their shared passion for mountain biking has led the Walton Family Foundation to contribute $13 million toward trails in Northwest Arkansas. Remember when you were a kid (or, like last week) and you played that game: “What would you do if you had a zillion dollars?” Well, these guys can actually answer that question. And it turns out what they’d do is create a living lab for trail advocacy.

Though the current state of their wardrobe was almost certainly a factor:

In any case, I can’t help feeling a bit nostalgic, since Rapha played such an outsized role in the salad days of my blogging career.  After all, who could forget this?

I even got quoted in the article:

In an e-mail message, Bike Snob NYC said he was impressed with a “Fixed Jacket” that Rapha sent him to try. “It’s excellent,” he wrote. “It’s durable, the fit is good, and the pockets are in the right places.” The blogger added, “They’ve done a great job of not only evoking cycling history but also capturing a ‘soulful’ aesthetic that appeals to certain riders.” Still, he admitted: “As a cyclist, I understand it, but personally I sometimes find it off-putting. It’s a little rarefied for me … I don’t want to feel like I need to be worthy of my clothes.”

Now Rapha’s all growed up and fetching £200 million, and here I am riding a Surly and hoping my wheels don’t get stolen.  All I’m saying is where the hell is my buyout?  I’m not asking for Walmart money, but couldn’t the Tad’s Steaks heirs buy me out for like fifty grand?

Here’s hoping.

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Much Ado About Fredness

Well I’m still waiting for my wooden speed sleigh, which I understand should be coming any day now:

In the meantime I’ve been training hard on my chubby bike:

As well as my bike with those curved-type handlebars like they use in the Tour de France:
And of course now that I’m on Strava I intend to push the Renovo and myself to our very limits:

That’s right, I plan to set those Strava segments on fire–unless of course the Renovo goes up in flames first.

Speaking of test items, a little while ago I mentioned that I’d received a set of these reusable locking zip ties from Hiplok:

While I’ve been carrying one around in my jersey pocket lately just in case I need to duck into a store in a low-crime area, I admit I haven’t had occasion to actually use one yet.  However, do you see that little two-pronged key?
Well it totally saved my ride yesterday.

Here’s what happened.

As the curator of a vast publishing empire and the father of an undisclosed number of human children it’s not too often that I have time to go for a leisurely Sunday ride.  However, yesterday the stars aligned in just such a was as to make that possible.  So I grabbed the Ol’ Milwaukee and pointed it north.

However, a few blocks from my home, I noticed a potentially ride-ending problem:

My bar tape was messed up.

Specifically, the edge of one piece of bar tape had wriggled itself free from beneath the overlapping piece, and so it was popping up a tiny bit.  Now, as a parent with limited riding time my capacity for bicycle imperfection has increased considerably over the years.  Filthy bike?  Out-of-true wheel?  Rusty chain?  I no longer give any of these a second thought.

However, riding around with unraveling bar tape is a notch above sporting a great big greasy chain ring tattoo, and the level of distraction it would present during my ride was akin to having a pebble in my shoe or a burr in my chamois.

Anyway, I was just about to throw the bike over a guardrail and give up cycling forever when it occurred to me that I could take that little zip tie key and tuck the tape back where it belonged.  So that’s what I did:


Incidentally, this particular tape says “Do not stretch” on the package, but clearly there’s a fine line between not stretching and not wrapping tightly enough, and I guess I must have been just beneath that line by the time I made my way to the top of the bar.

It is exceedingly comfortable though, so I’m willing to ride the learning curve.

Speaking of Strava, now that I’m broadcasting my lame rides to the world, clearly I need to take the next step and make dramatic videos about them–just like world famous fixie bike rider Patrick Seabase:

Morocco – Riding in the Atlas Mountains from Patrick Seabase on Vimeo.

This clip captures the beauty of riding in the High Atlas Mountains, close to Marrakech. 

A place, rich in culture and history – Containing a wide range of topography, ideal for cycling.
From the intense atmosphere of Marrakech to the silent peaks up to 3000m.

Gearing: 47/17

No, this clip does not capture the beauty of riding in the High Atlas Mountains.  What it captures is the intricate linework of Patrick Seabase’s chest tattoo and the wispy hairs of his mustache:

It also captures the deranged look of someone chasing a phantom derailleur in the sky:
Then, on the way down, it captures the frantic spinning and skidding we’ve all been laughing at since 2007:

And finally it captures the unavoidable truth that riding a fixie is only slightly less badass than riding a motor scooter:
All of this is doubly clear if you mute the soundtrack, which accounts for about 95% of the video’s drama.

Lastly, remember when Fred Specs were going to be all the rage?

(“Come in, Planet Fred.  Do you read me, Planet Fred?”)
Well maybe not:

SANTA CLARA, Calif. (BRAIN) — Intel Corporation has quietly discontinued its Recon Jet smart sunglasses line as part of its reported move out of the wearables market. In a document published on the Intel website, the company said it would stop accepting orders for the products on Sept. 29.

Though not everybody’s giving up on the concept:

Everysight, an Israel-based company, is continuing to move ahead with its heads-up display sunglass, also marked for cyclists. The company attended Summer PressCamp last month and said it will begin shipping its glasses soon. 

Because you can never have too much information:

I hope they come out with a monocle version I can use with my wooden bike.

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This Just In: A Brief Leaf Of Abscess

Good afternoon!While I generally endeavor to give at least some advanced notice in the event of my leave-taking form this blog, the high shit-to-fan ratio* with which I’m currently dealing requires said notice to be a bit more abrupt.*[If the surface a… Continue reading »

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Wednesdays Are For Blathering

As I mentioned not too long ago, I recently obtained a skateboard, which as an aging male officially put me in the company of people like this:

In his bespoke Italian suit and designer dress shoes, Cyril Therien gracefully weaves in and out of street traffic like a fish in water.

As soon as he pulls up to Pergola, the Flatiron hot spot du jour, women are practically lining up to speak to the 39-year-old IT specialist as he parks his wheels.

“This thing is a chick magnet,” he says.

There is no way in hell Cyril Therien is a real person.

Anyway, unlike other bike bloggers who also ride skateboards (I’m looking at you, Stevil Kinevil), I can’t do any tricks and I totally suck.  However, yesterday I used my skateboard in a practical application instead of simply flailing around on it on the street outside my house, and I must say that it was something of a revelation.

Basically, I had some errands to run in my neighborhood, and then I had to go all the way to Brooklyn.  And while I certainly could have done all of this by bicycle, I also had a limited amount of time, and I live far enough from Brooklyn that the only way the bike saves me time over the train is if said train derails.  (Which, I should point out, is becoming increasingly common these days.)  Ordinarily in a case like this I’d reach for the Brompton, but this time I figured “what the hell” and instead I grabbed the board with wheels.

Here’s how it played out:

–Rode skateboard to post office and some other places, tried not to beat self to death with skateboard while suffering through postal service transaction;
–Boarded subway;
–Saved myself a time-sucking inter-division transfer by skating to my destination once I arrived in Brooklyn;
–On the way home, got off the train early, picked up some Chipotle, and skated the rest of the way home.

What can I say, something about riding a skateboard makes you hungry for Chipotle.

Anyway, the revelation wasn’t that the skateboard worked out well as a handy way to augment the New York City transit system.  No, the revelation was how I felt while riding it–and the way I felt was deeply self-conscious.

See, as an internationally renowned bicycle blogger and author who’s been riding a bike since the 1970s:

And who upgraded from training wheels to Skyway Tuff Wheel IIs:

And eventually reached the lofty heights of Category 3 road racing and “sport” level mountain biking:

I am simply no longer capable of feeling self-conscious while on the bike.  Sure, there was a time when I felt naked without a matching stretchy kit and wouldn’t be caught dead on a bike without clipless pedals, but thankfully these days are long behind me.  Indeed, my only fear at this point is that I’ve become so laid back and ecumenical with regard to bikes that I might one day do the unthinkable and experiment with recumbents.

Oops, too late!

Rest assured I showered in scalding hot water afterward and have not been on one since.

The skateboard however was another story, and I found myself constantly worrying that I looked like a middle-aged hipster doofus–probably because that’s exactly what I looked like.  More than that, I worried that I was doing it “right.”  Not right in the sense of staying on it (I’m pretty capable of that), but right in the sense of not offending anybody.  After all, it’s been like 30 years since I’ve used a skateboard for transportation, and back then I was too young to give a shit about stuff like whether or not I should be on the sidewalk or what’s the least loud and stupid-looking way to stop this thing.  When I’m on a bike I know exactly where I should and shouldn’t be, which rules to follow and which rules to bend, and so forth.  On the skateboard however I was some weird not-quite-pedestrian and not-quite-cyclist, and I didn’t know shit.

And that was the revelation.  This is how a lot of people feel on the bike.  Just as I hadn’t skated since I was a teenager, many New York City cyclists haven’t been on a bike since adolescents and are wobbly and insecure.  And while most of them are capable of staying upright, no doubt many of them are emotionally quite fragile, and how much they worry about whether or not they’re doing it “right” could be enough to decide whether they stick with the bike or simply give it up.

And while I wouldn’t call riding the skateboard a form of penance (I enjoyed it too much), I would say it was humbling and lent me some much-needed empathy.  Certainly it’s important to encourage cyclists during this important make-or-break period in their development.

As for whether or not I’ll continue using the skateboard for commuting, we shall see.  But if I can ride around on a folding bike and maintain some shred of dignity, I can probably ride anything:

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From Materialism to Letting Go

With the stock market on a tear and a president who’s committed to making America great again by increasing our reliance on cutting-edge energy sources such as coal there’s never been a better time to purchase a quality bicycle made here on the good side of the Mexican border wall.  Are you in the market for a new bike that says, “I’m an American, and I wipe my ass with $100 bills?”  If so, look no further, because you’ll want to buy two or three of these babies:

Yes, meet The Wheelman Bicycle, the $35,000 python-wrapped bicycle that screams, “I take meetings with Donald Trump, Jr.!”
As far as I can tell The Wheelman has been around for awhile, but I only became aware of it last week when a publicist representing the company asked if I would discuss it on a TV show.  I told him that I would, but that in the interest of “full transparency” he should know I find the bike offensive.  For some reason he decided to move on.
Anyway, here’s the story behind The Wheelman:

Each Wheelmen bicycle is a custom-built masterpiece. The lavish finishings and details of this exceptional bicycle ensure that The Wheelmen is both work of art and mode of transportation like no other. 

Williamson bicycles are hand brazed in Detroit using highest quality chromoly tubing. The frame, fork, lugs, and stem are all handmade by Williamson, with individual copper details and subtle logos brazed in place. Each component is wrapped with python or crocodile and hand sewn. Brake levers, gear system, pedals, and cranks are then assembled to your exact specifications. All of our animal skins are CITES certified, thus they are harvested in a sustainable and humane process. In addition, no chemical bi-products are used in the tanneries. 


And here are the specs, which slot neatly in between “stock Surly” and “stock Budnitz” but are closer to the former:

Basically it’s your typical shop bro’s bar bike, only dipped in plating and wrapped in dead shit.
Sure, they look like nice enough frames, but you don’t even get the satisfaction of waiting around for a world famous artisan who’s in love with the smell of his own farts:
Nevertheless, if you’re enamored of The Wheelman because you’ve always dreamed of a bike that looks like Ted Nugent is using it as a drying rack for his underpants, then for a similar effect I’d recommend purchasing a Linus and draping it in roadkill.  That way you’ll have about $34,500 left over, which you can use to buy five (5) footballs:
The Woodward football is made to the official size and weight of professional American football standards.  It can be enjoyed as a prized showpiece or for a game of backyard football.
Each ball is hand cut, sewn and assembled in Detroit, Michigan, and can be embossed with the name, initials, or personal message of your choice. All of our animal skins are CITES certified, thus they are harvested in a sustainable and humane process. In addition, no chemical bi-products are used in the tanneries. 
Jesus Christ, what the fuck do these people have against reptiles!?!
Yeah, I’m holding out for the golf balls covered in stem cells, but thanks anyway.
In other news, did you know that no-handed riding will enhance your mind-body connection?
Why is this?  Well, one reason is apparently that “now you have nearly 100% of all your weight on your root.”

Yes, as you always suspected, intense scranial pressure is the path to enlightenment.

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Is It Wednesday Yet?


For those of us who reside down here in her dirty pant cuffs it’s tempting to imagine Canada as an endearingly polite idyll with free health care and a dreamy prime minister:

However, every so often something comes along to shatter our illusion and remind us that our unassuming neighbor to the north also has its share of violence-prone pickup truck-driving troglodytes:

PETERBOROUGH—A driver has been charged after a dramatic video showed a 74-year-old cyclist viciously attacked on the side of the road with a club.

Peterborough police said that just after 11 a.m. Tuesday, the cyclist was riding in the area of Erskine Ave. when an argument broke out between him and a truck driver.

The driver climbed out of his truck and attacked the cyclist with a small club, police said.

Unlike his stateside counterparts he’s wearing sandals:

But the dissimilarities end there.

“The sound of the club hitting him was sickening,” the woman told the newspaper. “Blood was flying off it.”

She said she didn’t witness what led to the encounter.

“They were flailing their arms around and the guy walked back to his truck,” she said.

I’m going to go ahead and guess what led to this encounter is the same thing that leads to every instance of driver-on-cyclist road rage, which is that the driver nearly killed the cyclist with his giant motor vehicle by doing something stupid or selfish or both, and the cyclist had the audacity to exercise his self-preservation instinct by trying not to die.

Just a hunch.

Still, not all Canadian pickup truck drivers are bad, and some might even save you from a bear attack:

He began hitting his horn to get the cyclist’s attention, seeing that his speed would not outrun the bear.

“Finally he looked over at me and I said, ‘You’ve got a grizzly bear about 25 feet behind you.’ He looked back and went, ‘Oh!’ and started to pound on the pedals.”

Here’s what a touring cyclist looks like when he’s being pursued by an ursine wheelsucker:

And here’s a bear who has locked on to the irresistible scent of pannier stuffed to capacity with dried meats and dirty chamois:

At this point you may be wondering, “What should I do if I find myself being chased by a bear?”  Well, here are some things you can try:

Though it doesn’t address various concerns specific to cyclists, chief among them being “What pressure should I be running?”

Nevertheless, the number one threat to our well-being continues to be idiots driving cars, and while self-driving technology may soon factor the idiots out of the equation you can be sure the auto-industrial complex will figure out new ways to make safety your problem:

(Via @TrueBS)

On a recent afternoon, Rowe pedaled a white Bianchi Brava bicycle up and down a busy street in the city’s university district. His bike was loaded with gear: the antenna of a GPS unit extended above his head in a long plastic tube, a laser range finder called a LIDAR measured the precise position of everything around the bike, four inertial measurement units captured motion, a water bottle held a battery, a computer collected all that information, and every other spoke carried a speedometer.

“I would not be happy if I had to ride this every day,” says Rowe, hopping off the bike. “But hopefully when all of this stuff just gets embedded in a cellphone on the front, then it should be no problem.”

Oh, sure, helping the machines help you seems innocent enough, but it’s not too hard to imagine a future in which this sort of technology becomes mandatory.  And while that might not seems like such a big deal either (after all, we’re all riding around with phones anyway), in practice it could have many of the same implications of a helmet law, such as enforcement for not using it falling disproportionately on certain segments of the population.  Plus, the auto industry has been deflecting responsibility onto more vulnerable road users since the days of the hand-cranked engine, so why should we expect this to be any different?  I’m sure the traffic light and all the other controls we’re familiar seemed like good ideas at the time, and of course we couldn’t imagine life without them now, but really what they served to do was wrest control of the streets from anyone who wasn’t driving a car.  You’re already fair game out there, and being forced to get “wired up” before riding a bike (even if it’s just flipping a virtual toggle switch on your phone) feels like a final act of surrender.

Of course, we all know who’s going to sell us out first: the Freds.  They’re used to riding while connected anyway so will no doubt embrace this technology, and from there we’ll soon reach a point when “serious” cyclists sneer at anybody riding without LIDAR in the same way they currently do ay anyone who rides without first putting on a foam hat.  And who do you think will be the first country on earth to bend over and willingly accept mandatory GPS cycling suppositories?  Yeah, that’s right:

You have been warned.

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BSNYC Friday No Quiz But Don’t Get Complacent!

When we last sat down together we were discussing sandals:

Specifically, we were marveling over the fact that most people are fine with destroying the planet through excessive energy consumption, but under no circumstances will they look at feet shod in flip-flops:

“Never!” he said. “Disgusting, filthy, revolting, repellent, repulsive, sickening, nauseating, stomach-churning, stomach-turning, off-putting, unpalatable, distasteful, foul, nasty, vomitous.”

The conclusion, if I recall correctly, was that people are fucking idiots.

Oh, also, what do flip-flops and helmets have in common?


Philip Brown Australia 
What Americans call “flip-flops” are dangerous footwear that should be banned on a number of safety grounds: they fall off, fall apart, catch on things causing falls, they catch under things causing other accidents, they provide no protection from rough, sharp or dropped objects. In most Australian jurisdictions it is an offence to drive in flip-flops for many of the preceding reasons.
Aesthetically they display the ugliness of ‘human’ feet.
As poverty footwear, made from scraps, there may be some justification for the existence of flip-flops but no other springs to mind.

Philip Brown’s head would no doubt explode if he knew that in the hot summer months I often ride around the neighborhood helmetless and in flip-flops.

He does have a point though: dangerous footwear should be banned.  In addition to the deadly flip-flop, which has somehow not spelled the demise of humankind despite being the oldest form of footwear on the planet, we should also ban any heel larger than one (1) centimeter tall, as well as require that any shoe with laces be double-knotted and secured with a Velcro closure.  Remember that story about the person who dripped over his untied shoelace and fell into the path of an oncoming train?  Of course you don’t, because I just made it up, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t go Full Aussie and nanny down hard on everything.

Oh, and it goes without saying that walking in cycling shoes should be punishable by $6,000 or 6 months in jail.

Anyway, after all that, I posed the following “teaser” image yesterday:

That is not, contrary to what some of you speculated, my foot.  It is, however, the foot of the person who invented the Bellcycle:

Which, as you can see, is a rolling paradox in that it’s sort of an upright recumbent pennyfarthing:

And beyond that the website will tell you everything you need to know:

If you miss the sensation of riding around the neighborhood on your friend’s handlebars then clearly this is the bike for you.

I should also point out that I’ve mentioned the inventor of the Bellcycle on this blog in the past, for he is waging an “epic” legal battle against a small package delivery concern called the United Parcel Service:

I think we know which company he won’t be using to deliver all those medium sized boxes.

Speaking of the associations I’ve made over the years, longtime readers may recall the heady days when this blog was relevant and really good bicycle rider Barry Wicks used to send me stuff in the mail:

Well, I mention this because remember these gloves?

As you can see they share share a similar aesthetic sensibility, clearly identifying them as Mr. Wicks’s handiwork.  Indeed, it turns out he’s got something of a “working person’s Best Made” operation going on Etsy:

Inspired by vintage mountain bike films, we sought to re-create an updated, durable, good looking glove that is good for just about everything. 

We start with 100% Deerskin leather gloves to give a soft supple feel, while providing excellent wear characteristics and comfort.

Customers can choose size and venting options along with graphics colors.

We offer an unvented, snosealed version for winter riding or spring ski touring etc.

All gloves are built to order and ship in 1-2 business days from order date.

When you order, include in notes to seller up to 2 additional color choices, and if you want standard venting, no venting and/or snoseal waterproofing.

Slip on a pair of Hella Sweet Gloves, then go outside and do something awesome!

Questions? Email us! hellasweetgloves [!at]

Rest assured I plan to give my pair a thorough test, though don’t expect it anytime soon because it’s currently like 93 fucking degrees out.

Incidentally, these babies would go great with that wooden bike I’m picking up next week:

Hopefully I don’t have to return it before it’s cool enough to wear them.

And yes, that’s right, by next weekend I will be riding a wooden bike.  At this point it’s just a matter of finishing the paperwork, which has all kinds of stuff about avoiding woodpeckers, not using magnifying glasses near it when it’s sunny out, and so forth:

With a regular bike it’s “I was just riding along when…”

With a wooden bike it’s “I was just admiring the exquisite handiwork when…”

Also, be absolutely sure not to leave your monocle hanging off the bars when you head into the coffee shop.

Ah yes, I could make wood cracks all day.

In fact look at that, I just made another one!

As for these things:

I haven’t tried them yet but they’re basically a reusable zip tie type thing from Hiplok:

Obviously using this as your only lock in a place like New York would be like bringing a Renovo to a termite convention, but it certainly seems like a handy item to stick in your jersey pocket for that quick espresso stop in some dinky town, or for augmenting the flimsy lock on your car rack when you’re on a road trip.  I’ve also found that having a light, unobtrusive lock on you is great for when you’re riding with the family, since for the most part you don’t need a ton of security when you’re locking up a child’s bike.

Though I’m sure somewhere at some point some thief has scooted away on a balance bike, and I’m also sure it was fucking hilarious.

And with that, I’m vanishing into the weekend, and I beseech you to do the same–though at some point today my latest Outside column is probably going to materialize, in which case I’ll duck back in and let you know. But pending that, ride safe, ride safely, and engage in bicycling with an appropriate level of care.

Sincerely and so forth,

–Wildcat Etc. Machine

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A Tedious Wednesday Diatribe About How Stupid We Are

Most weekday mornings this summer my elder son and I get on our bikes and ride the one (1) mile to his day cap.  A fairly decent hill (especially if you’re seven) notwithstanding, it’s a mellow ride through a fairly quiet residential neighborhood–with one exception.

At about the halfway point of our ride is another day camp that is held on the lush campus of a private school.  (Annual tuition $42,805 not including an additional $7,000 for books, supplies, field trips, etc., in case you’re wondering.)  By the time my son and I are passing through, the drop-off is in full swing, and a phalanx of traffic coordinators guide a seemingly endless procession of SUVs with license plates from New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut (not to mention a whole bunch of yellow schoolbuses) through a series of orange cones and eventually to the entrance where, eventually, parents discharge their little campers.
And of course the entire process repeats itself in the afternoon during our return trip home.
To their credit, the staff clearly puts a great deal of effort into managing all this traffic, and they’re always very considerate of us as we pass, but even so riding through this shitshow of an obstacle course is a real pain in the ass.
Americans–even New Yorkers–have gotten used to the idea that driving kids absolutely everywhere is normal behavior.  However, when you ride a bike the scales fall from your eyes (or, if you prefer, the pie plate falls from your hub) and you see that a school run with the complexity of an airport drop-off is fucking insane.  And sure, call me smug, but it seems doubly insane to drive all the way from Connecticut or New Jersey (or Manhattan for that matter) and then spend 15 minutes idling in a drop-off line so a kid can kick a soccer ball around on a field in the Bronx.
Oh, sure, I realize it’s typical of a smug cyclist to pass judgment on others’ choices.  After all, I’m sure plenty of these parents have perfectly logical reasons for sending their kids to day camps out of state.  For example, it’s probably on the way to their Manhattan offices, and once they’ve completed the dropoff they they likely head downtown and curse the bike lanes as they sit in traffic on the Henry Hudson Parkway.  Also, like all cyclists I’m a giant hypocrite, because even though I’d rather chew my own foot off than drive my kids to school or camp on a regular basis I still pile them into THE CAR THAT THE BANK OWNS UNTIL I FINISH PAYING THEM BACK for all sorts of other stuff when the mood strikes me.  (I’ve got a trunk full of beach chairs and I’m not afraid to use them.)
Still, when you ride a bike around the neighborhood it’s hard–really hard–to watch other parents subject themselves to this sort of thing and not wonder to yourself, “What the fuck are they doing???”  It’s also hard not to meditate on the moronic choices people make because of cars, whether it’s commuting to another city go grocery shopping (guilty), or driving into the city during rush hour, complaining about the traffic, and then complaining about the bike lanes used by the people who actually live there:
I’ve certainly never considered myself an environmentalist, and my inclination to ride bikes a lot of the time is motivated mostly by joy and impatience, but it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the implications of the stupid decisions we make because we’re dumb and lazy.  And it’s not just or addiction to cars either.  Consider air conditioning:
One #NYToday reader on flip-flops at the office: “Disgusting, filthy, revolting, repellent, repulsive, sickening.”

— NYT Metro (@NYTMetro) July 19, 2017

Sure, it’s easy to laugh at flip flops, the footwear of choice for fans of Jimmy Buffett.  At the same time, let’s consider the fact that we squander an insane amount of energy in order to air condition basically the entire city so people who work in offices can dress like it’s winter all summer long.  Incredibly, many people on this planet actually dress appropriately for the climate in which they live, and that includes wearing some form of sandal (which is what flip flops are) even in formal situations.  After all, as far showing your feet at work, if sandals are good enough for heads of state then who the hell are you to complain?

(“I dare you to say some shit about my sandals.”)

Yes, all over the planet entire countries go more or less barefoot, but you push some papers around at a legal firm so you shouldn’t have to see some toes.

And sure, feet can be pretty damn funky, but this person should maybe get some help:

Thomas Beatty, 63, who retired from a job in hotels in Manhattan, had a much more colorful reaction to flip-flops in a professional setting.

“Never!” he said. “Disgusting, filthy, revolting, repellent, repulsive, sickening, nauseating, stomach-churning, stomach-turning, off-putting, unpalatable, distasteful, foul, nasty, vomitous.”

We’re justifiably outraged when the Saudis arrest a woman for wearing a miniskirt, but we’re aghast at the notion of someone exposing their little piggies.

(By the way, Thomas Beatty is totally a closet foot fetishist, and he’s afraid if he catches a glimpse of some bunions he’ll want to start “toe-jammin’.”)

And while thinking flip flops are ugly, gross and noisy may seem innocent enough, it’s really just another symptom of the same uptight attitude that keeps people from riding bikes places because “Eew, I’ll get all sweaty.”  Perhaps if we came to terms with the fact that wearing less shit keeps you cooler, and that a little sweating is normal, and that the economy won’t collapse if both these things happen at work, then chances are we’d be free to make more rational decisions about how to get around.  (Not to mention dialing back on the AC a bit.)

Plus, I know a guy who used to wear flip flops to the office, and his name was Jesus:


And when he comes back you’d better believe he’ll be wearing Tevas and riding a Citi Bike:

You have been warned.

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