When I first started discovering New York City’s myriad nooks and crannies as an adult, one of the first things that captured my attention was the mural of Joe Strummer on the corner of Avenue A and 8th St. I had heard the stories of the neighborhood – the squats, the riots – and saw the punks still hanging out with their packs of dogs in Tompkin’s Square Park, saw the food handouts and the line of folks in need.
This photo, by Fred Askew, grabs the attention and the imagination all over again.
Sidewalk bike repairmen are all over those neighborhoods. They remind me that “bike culture” isn’t made up exclusively of things that bloggers rant about. Across the city, country, and world, people use bikes as tools and as toys, without the same level of competition, consumption, and festering need to improve or upgrade.
The Velosopher and I recently talked about the importance of smiling while riding your bike, to remind yourself that it’s fun, to break through the ice and scowls that can too-easily accidentally result from a number of things on the bike – those small, anonymous competitions, or the isolating nature of riding alone.
That picture made me smile, and I had to share it. It was taken by one off the heads behind Continuum Cycles, a fine small shop in New York City. Thanks, Fritz.
Warning: this post required that I lead with a picture that I found bu Google Image Searching “hipster fixed gear.” So I did. You’re forewarned.
Philadelphia is, apparently, seeking to fine people riding brakeless fixed gears. This article reads like a list of things I hate about journalists writing about fixed gears. It writes and perpetuates just about every fixed gear stereotype available to somebody who logged on to bikeforums.net for the first time. Are there riders who are not good at riding or stopping their bike? Yes. Are all of them fixed gear riders? No.
Furthermore, this notion that out-of-control fixed-gear riders are a public menace is absurd considering the number of pedestrians and cyclists killed every year by automobiles and their drivers. In New York City, killing somebody with your car is the best way to get away with murder – it’s assumed to be the cyclist’s or pedestrian’s fault. Despite the law, cars have the right of way.
I’m not going to step up and defend fixed gears or the riders thereof. I just don’t care that much, despite the fact that one of my main rides is a track bike. Mostly, I hate the lazy, simple categorization (a shining example of expedient stupidity), demonstrated perfectly by author of the piece linked above. I hate the seasoned idiots who shake their heads at a broad class of newbies. And I hate the focus on it. I’m willing to step away from anticar rant to acknowledge that there are myriad bad bikers out there, and if anybody wants to correlate poor cycling with use of a brakeless fixed gear, well then, let me see some data, not anecdotal crap, backing it up.
And, for any driver that’s reading this and thinking I knew those cyclists were all bad bikers, please remember a few things: you speed, on streets and on highways. You know that light wasn’t still yellow. You know you cut off that person. You know you don’t use your blinker every time. Few people have a high horse in this argument, myself included. I consider myself a safe cyclist albeit one who runs red lights and does other scofflaw behavior. I will say this, though: the bike infrastructure improvements in New York City have made me a much, much more law-abiding cyclist. Go figure.
A far more level-headed approach to the whole debate/debacle was written in the Guardian’s Bike Blog a few weeks ago. It offers a perspective shift just in the title: “Antisocial Cycling Is Annoying, But Not Harmful.”
Annoying, not harmful.
Something to keep in mind, Philadelphia.
Recent weeks have seen some fuss and outrage at the decision by the Union Cycliste Internationale and the International Olympic Committee to rearrange the Olympic track program for 2012.
A fine summation of the issue is here, in an open letter from John Wilcockson. The heart of it was the disparity of men’s and women’s events at the ’08 Olympics, which offered seven opportunities for men to medal, and three for women.
The rearrangement of the program for 2012, however, has attracted much grumbling, largely due to the elimination of the surprisingly fun-to-watch individual pursuit, an event that is young cycling phenom Taylor Phinney‘s bread-and-butter. Apparently suffering from a case of being-a-nineteen-year-old, Phinney has launched a Twitter campaign to save his event. Like his campaign, the mighty muscle of an internet petition also offers no support of addressing the gender disparity. It’s all about the pursuit, isn’t it, boys?
Wilcockson‘s article summarizes the proposed new program: the match sprint, team sprint, keirin, team pursuit, and the omnium. But the omnium includes a pursuit, along with a flying 200, a scratch race, a points race, and a kilo.
It doesn’t exactly take a sharp analytical mind to realize that the pursuit has not been removed from the Olympics – it just means that whiny specialists might have to suck it up and race a couple more races if they want to win a medal.
Wilcockson attributes the inclusion of the omnium to the nostalgia of an anachronism on the UCI Track Commission. Personally, as a fan of the sport (and participant, at its middling levels), I’m much more inclined to want to watch an omnium – to embrace the variables of mass-start races, to have to gauge the strengths of so-and-so in this event against the dominance of so-and-so in that event. It can be a much more exciting, dynamic, spectator-friendly group of events.
The pursuit, while it can have some delightful drama and tension drawn out over its kilometers, is really just two people racing in ovals.
I know which one I’d rather watch.
And considering the self-centeredness and immaturity displayed in the #SaveThePursuit campaign, which fails to sufficiently acknowledge the fact that the UCI and IOC are trying to do the right thing by equalizing medal opportunities for women and men, I’m inclined to hope it fails.
Filed under: cyclocross
With plans to race Cheshire ‘Cross and Spooky Cycles’ race in Easthampton, I dug up the small list of reminders that I wrote myself after the races a few weeks ago here in Northampton.
*you can corner harder
*you can hammer in the big ring
*you can ride that
*but you should run that
*that’s not enough ibuprofen
*there’s plenty of time to enjoy life after the race.
The first two are pretty helpful. The third and fourth are pretty unhelpful. The fifth and sixth, well, I plan on that. And the seventh will probably be accurate, again.
Filed under: no one line
A recent post by Joe Parkin reminds me of something that I recently learned in a handful of cyclocross races: the consensus line is not always the fastest line. There may be a faster way through a turn than the line worn into the muck and matted grass.
Parkin wasn’t talking about cyclocross, just amateur racing, when he said that there’s a lot of bullshit that passes for conventional knowledge, bandied about by people with little experience. Edward Abbey quips that folk wisdom is nothing more than expedient stupidity; like the line in the ‘cross course, conventional knowledge can be flat-out wrong.
Some people yell “Hold your line” like it’s a Tourette’s tic without ever knowing what it means. Some people buy Zipps before they buy Friel. Some people scoff at racing in the lower categories in an attempt to distance themselves from newbie-status, but nothing says mediocre more than a Cat 3 asserting superiority over a cat 4. And to me, the best part about racing is that it can be incredibly fun and fulfilling at any level, and while I look forward to moving up in the ranks of this sport, I have no intention of deriding where I started from.
What do you think: what gets bandied around as conventional wisdom that you would readily discard?
After Fabian Cancellara’s World Championship victory earlier this fall, I asked, “What will it take to get this man on a velodrome to go after the Hour Record?”
I think the Hour Record is extremely cool, a raw testament to an individual’s strength; a rider’s equipment and preparation for the Hour Record is also a snapshot of technological developments and the persistent struggle between the development of bicycles and the competition-legal definition thereof. Of course, this was most noticable in Graemme O’bree and Chris Boardman’s back-and-forth attempts in the early 90s.
Cancellara thrills spectators with his raw power. In this year’s Tour, his long breakaway on stage 15 was caught at the base of the final climb to Verbier and rather than sink to the laughing group, he kept riding at the front of the main field for as long as he could, setting a punishing pace up the lower slopes of the climb, whittling away at the field.
This morning it was exciting to read news that both Cancellara is eyeing the Hour Record. The article also erroneously reports that David Zabrieski is considering it, despite their inclusion of his comment that “It’s not something I’m targeting in the near future.”
It would be extremely exciting to see Cancellara, a world-class rider, launch a concerted effort on the Hour Record.
Gabe is a big, tall, smiling bundle of friendliness and subtle, simmering humor. Since a collision with a car while he was on vacation in San Francisco in August, he’s been working his way out of a coma, recovering from some fairly serious brain damage. Medical updates have been posted on Get Better Gabe by loving family members and his incredibly supportive and strong girlfriend, and they report so much progress.
I was incredibly proud to be a part of a benefit party in August that raised money to send to them, to help support them while they subletted, staying in a city far away from home to care for him. I posted some information on this blog and on twitter, and some of my readers, several of whom I’ve never met, had contributed to this get-well-soon, we’re-thinking-of-you, we’d-like-to-help-somehow fund. That generosity touched me.
A crucial next step is getting Gabe home, and an Air Ambulance is incredibly expensive. There is a raffle to raise money to bring him home where he can continue his recovery. The top prize? An all-expenses-paid custom frame from Maietta Cycles, built by Tony Maietta, a childhood friend of Gabe’s. I met Tony this past weekend at the Cycle-Smart Invitational, complimented him on his frames, admired his support of Gabe’s recovery, and drooled over the ‘cross bike that he was racing.
If you don’t know Gabe, and don’t know Maietta’s bikes, take it from me: you want Gabe back home, and you want a Maietta.
The full sized flier for the raffle is here, and there is plenty of information at Get Better Gabe and Tony’s blog. A ticket is $20, which is a small price to pay for either getting Gabe back east, or a shot at riding a Maietta. I’ve bought my ticket. Have you?