How to Justify Your Next Bike

09.25.2007 | 3:04 am

A Note From Fatty: My second weekly BikeRadar piece has just been published. It’s called “How to Justify Your Next Bike.” Here’s a preview:

We cyclists are simple folk. We don’t need much to keep us happy. Really, all we need are clear skies and a road or trail to make us happy.

And a helmet, of course. And gloves. And shorts with a special antimicrobial chamois insert. And form-fitting shirts. And very stiff-soled shoes, preferably Italian-made. And specialty sports drinks, with an incomprehensible combination of carbohydrates, proteins, electrolytes, and a lemon-lime flavoring that for some reason makes one think of furniture polish.

Oh, and we need bikes. More specifically, we need another bike. Always. And that means we need to pay for another bike.

Now, it’s not the paying per se that’s difficult. We can always find a way to get the money we need for bike stuff — take a second job, sell a kidney, money laundering, whatever.

What’s difficult is justifying the expense of yet another bicycle, whether it be to our wives, our parents, or to our own nagging conscience.

Sometimes we fail in our justification, and then where are we? We’re in the Purgatory of No New Bikes, that’s where we are. That’s a bad place. A bad, bad place. We should never have to be in that place.

And if you will follow the following techniques, you will never be in that place again.

Click here to continue reading “How to Justify Your Next Bike” on BikeRadar.com ….

 

Adventure by Default

09.24.2007 | 7:02 am

I wouldn’t call the number of bikes I have in my garage “stupid.” I prefer to call it “plentiful.” And maybe “plentiful” is too strong a term. I mean, it’s not like I have a bike for every occasion. I don’t have a BMX bike, for example. Nor do I have a cross bike. Nor a full-suspension mountain bike.

When you think about it, I’m a pauper, bikewise. But I’m getting away from the point I want to make. Which is: my paucity of bikes notwithstanding, generally I have a bike or two ready to roll for any biking occasion.

Last Saturday, however, very nearly turned out to be an exception.

First off, mountain bikes were out of the question, since I messed up my right shoulder again last Friday (I had picked a bad line and rolled off a narrow ladder bridge into a ravine, cleverly stopping my fall by putting out my right hand).

That’s OK, though. It had been a while since I had been out on the road bike. So I started topping off the tires, when I noticed a bulge in the rear tire. There was a big tear in it, and I didn’t have a replacement. Bike shops wouldn’t be open for a couple hours.

Briefly, I was flummoxed. I was all dressed up, with no way to go.

And then I saw the track bike.

Ah yes, the fixie. It had been a long time since I had ridden the fixie. I’ve hardly been out on it at all since moving from Washington to Utah, in fact. The roads are just too hilly.

But you know, I’ve wondered a few times what it would be like to try to climb the Alpine Loop on my track bike.

Well, now seems like as good a time as any to find out.

Spurious Saddle
It is natural, of course, for me to assume that your life revolves around my adventures and exploits. Even so, I don’t expect you to immediately know / remember what climbing the Alpine Loop on my fixed-gear bike implies. So let me help you:

  • The Alpine Loop is a road climb I can do right from my house. It is a ten mile climb, ascending nonstop from 5000 to 8200 feet. In short, it is a ten-mile, 3200 foot climb.
  • The Bianchi Pista is a very inexpensive — but still surprisingly cool-looking track bike. “Fixed gear” means that it doesn’t have a freewheel, which means you cannot coast. If the wheels are turning, you must be pedaling. The gear ratio on my Pista is 48 x 16, which is about the same as if you are in your big ring up front and in the middle sprocket of your cassette in the back.

In short, I had given myself quite a challenge.

I put a water bottle in my jersey pocket (track bikes don’t usually have water bottle cages), swung a leg over and began the ride. I was surprised at how quickly I became reaccustomed to not being able to coast; the fixie style of riding came back to me right away.

I was not surprised at how hard this ride was. There were very few moments where the pitch of the road eased up enough that I was able to sit down.

Please Notice Me
The sky was overcast and threatening as I climbed, which meant the temperature was nice and cool. I was disappointed, though, to find that the threat of rain had evidently scared away all cyclists.

Why was I disappointed to not either pass or be passed? Simple. I desperately wanted to casually point out to someone — anyone – that I was climbing the Alpine Loop on a 48 x 16 – geared track bike.

No luck. I had to suffer slowly up the mountain without the benefit of being able to have the conversation I had mapped out in my head:

Me: How’s it going?

Other rider: Not bad. I can’t believe you’re passing me. I’m a semi-pro, you know, and am going full-tilt.

Me: (modestly) Well, I can’t really control my speed. Just gotta turn the cranks over at the speed they turn over, you know.

Other rider: Holy smokes. I just noticed — you’re riding a fixie! Up the Alpine Loop! What kind of gearing is that?

Me: Yeah, my regular road bike had a mechanical. Didn’t want to miss out on a ride. The gearing’s 48 x 16, or something like that.

Other rider: Hey, that’s a really nice jersey. Are you the one they call the Fat Cyclist?

Me: Yeah, that’s me.

Other rider: Can I have your autograph?

Me: Sure. I keep a permanent felt-tip marker with me at all times for just this sort of occasion.

Entertaining myself with these kinds of thoughts, I made it — slowly, painfully, to the summit. Unheralded.

I rode around the parking lot at the summit a few times, hoping someone would get to the top and notice me. In this I was disappointed.

Oh, I Guess I’m Not Done Yet
As a testament to exactly how far into the future I was thinking when I began this ride, it was only when I was actually at the top of the Loop that I considered what a total lack of fun it was going to be to do the downhill portion of this ride. I do have a front brake fitted on the bike, but I still had to pedal the whole way down, and so would not be able to go the usual 40+mph all the way down.

Oh, also it started raining. Hard.

So, cold and wet, I simultaneously braked and pedaled down the slick, wet road. The track-style handlebars aren’t made for resting your hands on the top of the bars — there are no hoods. This, combined with the very close, steep geometry of the track bike meant that a lot of my weight was on my arms, so my hands went numb, which was just as well, because that way I didn’t notice how cold they were anymore.

It probably goes without saying that I no longer was much interested in having a conversation about how I was riding the Alpine Loop on a fixie, since I now just felt like a fool.

Judging Floyd

09.21.2007 | 6:04 am

Recently, I wrote an extremely insightful piece of satire, wherein I projected that the USADA would not finish its deliberations — which have been going on since Spring — in 2035.

Can anyone truly call it a coincidence that just five days later, the hearing closed, and that we now have a verdict (one which Floyd isn’t too happy with)? No, of course it’s not a coincidence.

Clearly, my influence over the cycling community is immense. Don’t cross me. I’ll make you suffer.

Now, I’m not trying to imply anything here, but I can’t help but wonder: If Floyd had worn a Pink Fat Cyclist Jersey when he raced the Leadville 100, do you think it’s possible the outcome might have been different?

So, Is Floyd Innocent?
Since I am clearly a very important, influential, and informed person in the cycling community, I’m positive that you want my opinion on this whole mess.

So here you go. My actual opinion. I’ll stop kidding around for a minute.

My natural tendency is to believe that most people have good motives most of the time. So I believed Tyler is / was innocent, and I’m inclined to believe Floyd is innocent, too. I sure hope so, because Stage 17 in the 2006 TdF was the most inspiring race in modern times.

Innocence aside, I think that Floyd made a strong case that the lab failed in its job to provide unimpeachable results. Strong enough to provide reasonable doubt. Which means, as far as my sense of justice is concerned, that he should not have been found guilty.

So, is Floyd innocent? I think so. Should he have been found not guilty? yes.

I am, of course, interested in your opinion on this matter. As long as you agree with me.

PS: Has anyone seen Tyler lately? Is it maybe time to file a missing person report? 

Cooler than Fonzie

09.20.2007 | 6:08 am

I do not like Las Vegas. It’s too hot. It’s too crowded. It’s too creepy. The entertainment doesn’t entertain me. At all.

I used to have to go, once a year, for Comdex. While pretty much every other tech nerd I knew counted the days ’til they got to go to this weeklong software orgy, I would look for excuses to stay home.

Examples of contemplated excuses follow:

  • “I think I’ve been poisoned.”
  • “My goiter is acting up.”
  • “I had a vivid dream that the Armageddon starts this week, and it begins in Las Vegas.”

None of these excuses were successful, and I always wound up going.

What irony, then, that for Interbike — the one show I’d actually be excited to go to, even though it’s in Las Vegas — I actually have a genuine ironclad reason for not going: It’s end of quarter, and I am buried neck-deep in a project that actually affects the future of my company.

Oh well, maybe next year.

Unbelievably Cool
Of course, all the bike and bike accessory companies are rolling out their wares for ‘08 at Interbike. Which means my favorite companies have got some cool new stuff to show.

In particular, Twin Six has some new jerseys coming out that I absolutely must have. First, there’s the Speedy ‘08:

I really, really dig the retro, home-made look of the jersey, where the stripes, the lettering and the “6″ have the color of the jersey show through, like the silk screen was running out of … um … whatever stuff they use to silk screen onto shirts.

The other jersey out of their ‘08 collection I am absolutely going to add to my collection is The Cross:

This jersey makes me think that the next Fat Cyclist jersey — should I decide to do one — will be black and red.

Rewarding Awesomeness
Twin Six has more cool new jerseys and T-shirts coming out for ‘08. You should go to their site and check them out.

And then, you should consider this: Twin Six is not a huge multinational company. They just seem that way because they keep doing everything right. They’re actually just two guys in Minneapolis, doing their part to make cyclists everywhere look cooler than we actually are.

So here’s what I want you to do. Go visit your local bike shop and talk to the guy there who’s going to Interbike. Tell him you would really like to be able to start buying cool jerseys from his shop, and that he ought to make sure he takes the time to swing by the Twin Six booth and talk with your good buddies Brent and Ryan (yeah, you’re on a first name basis with them). Tell him to tell Ryan and Brent that Fatty sent him.

And then you can feel good about yourself for the rest of the day, knowing you’ve done your part to rid the world of cringe-inducinggoofy novelty jerseys forever.

PS: Speaking of jerseys, the original Fat Cyclist Jerseys are now officially all sold out. If you didn’t get one, you don’t get one. there are only four three of the original orange-and-black Fat Cyclist Jerseys left for sale in the whole world:

They’re all size LargeTwo of them are size Large, and one is Medium, they’re ready to ship, shipping’s free, and when they’re gone, they’re gone forever.

Click here to order one (Twin Six is out, so you’ll have to order from me). First come, first served. I don’t expect these to last through the day, so if you take some time to contemplate, you’ll probably miss out.

You can still get the pink WIN edition (Unisex sizes only — women-specific sizes are all sold out) from Twin Six. Stock’s starting to run low in some sizes, though; if you want one, you should get one.

Exceptionally Well

09.19.2007 | 6:03 am

That’s what the doctor said about how Susan’s responding to the chemo treatments. Since her last scan back in July, the larger tumors in her lungs have decreased in diameter by 40 – 60%. Some of the smaller ones have shrunk to the point where they’re practically gone. The tumors on her liver are showing similarly good results.

The doctor — who just got back from Italy on a cycling tour, where she proudly wore her pink “WIN” Fat Cyclist Jersey – says that there’s normally a tapering off effect with the tumor shrinking, but Susan’s continue to shrink at the same rate.

The progress has been good enough, in fact, that the next scan will be a PET scan, which can measure change more accurately than the traditional CT scan, since some of the tumors have shrunk enough that it may be hard to measure much (or any) change with a CT scan.

What Does this Mean?
Well, it means a few things. It means that we keep doing exactly what we’ve been doing, because it works. I.e., we continue to take a page out of the Lance Armstrong handbook and do exactly what the doctor tells us to do.

It means that by the time the chemo reaches its “best response” stage, where it’s shrunk the tumors to as small as they’ll get, that the tumors will be very small indeed — and some of them may be gone altogether.

It means that probably around January, Susan will be able to take a break from chemo for several months. She’ll need to have some surgery right away at that point to suppress estrogen production (the kind of cancer Susan has feeds on estrogen, so we can slow the cancer’s growth by eliminating all estrogen), and then she can start recovering, growing back her hair, and getting her energy back.

And we can start figuring out when we’re going on our trip to Italy.

Thanks
A lot of you have taken a lot of time to comment, email, send cards and gifts, pray, meditate, and otherwise support Susan and me. I really believe that your generosity has made a big difference in how Susan’s doing.

Thank you.

And: huzzah!

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