I saw it on the Innertubes so it must be true. From the August 2019 issue of BRAIN.
One way to minimize your exposure to retail ridicule is to order your goodies online and pick them up at your leisure.
I’ve done this with coffeemakers, computer monitors, and even a guitar. And in these strange days of modern times, you can do it with bicycles, too.
Just surf merrily around the Innertubes from the comfort of your own castle, wherein none dare call you Tubby, Fred, or not at all. Locate the steed of your dreams. Then it’s “click and collect.” Easy peasy.
Or maybe not.
Things always look better on the Innertubes. A Big Mac looks like a hamburger. A generic plastic bike looks like winged Pegasus. And Il Fattini looks like Brad Pitt.
Until you see him in the all-too-abundant flesh and realize he looks more like Brad’s second cousin Grease. And smells like his Uncle Arm.
I’m shocked — shocked! — to learn the price of an e-bike. From the May 2019 issue of BRAIN.
If this one feels a bit like the last one, well, I was trying to match the ’toon with its issue’s theme, which happened to be (wait for it) e-bikes.
Plenty of people who should know better (some adventurous cyclists among them) think $1,500 is a lot to pay for a bike you don’t have to plug into a wall socket at night. And I’ve talked to more than one velo-curious person who thinks a third of that sounds about right.
So I was speculating how that sort of customer might react upon learning the price of a decent e-bike from the corner IBD.
And you know me — ever-ready with a cheap gag (rimshot).
Stoned again: From the April 2019 edition of BRAIN.
The bike business sometimes reminds me of Henri the painter in John Steinbeck’s “Cannery Row.”
Regularly he revolted against outworn techniques and materials. One season he threw out perspective. Another year he abandoned red, even as the mother of purple. Finally he gave up paint entirely. It is not known whether Henri was a good painter or not for he threw himself so violently into movements that he had very little time left for painting of any kind.
Think about it. Movements, and violently. The road bike. The mountain bike. The suspension fork. Full suspension. Steel, aluminum, carbon, bamboo. The cyclocross bike. The cruiser. The fixie. The townie. The fat bike. 1x drivetrains. 8-, 9-, 10-, 11- and 12-cog cassettes. STI, ErgoPower and DoubleTap. Internally geared hubs. Belt drive. Disc brakes. Hydraulic disc brakes. Electronic shifting. Tubeless tires. The e-bike. The cargo bike. The gravel bike.
We can argue about whether all (or any) of these movements improve upon the basic bicycle. But I think I speak for a lot of people when I say that I just want to ride the damn things. And if I have to be a quantum mechanic to work on it, I don’t need it.
Told I could have just one bicycle, I would choose a chromoly frame and fork with rack and fender mounts plus clearance for 42mm tires, a nine-speed, 11-34T cassette with a 46/30T crank, a short-reach, shallow-drop handlebar, bar-end shifters, aero levers, rim brakes, external cable routing, and 32-spoke clincher wheels (pre-tubeless “standards”).
Of course, that’s just me. One old white guy does not an industry make. But still.
In the meantime, I make fun of fads. Keep making those superhero movies, fellas. I’ll be over here, reading a fucking book.
O sweet irony, that the first day of winter should be the warmest we’ve had all week.
Your Humble Narrator has been doing more running than riding lately, so once the temperature inched past 45 I scooted out the door with a Steelman Eurocross and logged a refreshing 90 minutes on mixed terrain.
I didn’t want to ride a bunch of road, because all the drivers are drunk and texting relatives about what size orthopedic socks to buy Uncle Junior for Christmas and will they fit under his ankle monitor. And I didn’t want to ride a bunch of trails because all the cyclists are using them to hide from the drunk, texting drivers. Thus, “mixed terrain.” Keep the fuckers guessing.
I took my “new” iPhone SE with me, but didn’t think to take any snaps until I got home. The transition from iPhone 5 to iPhone SE was surprisingly simple — swap SIM cards, charge and boot the SE, load it with an iTunes backup of the 5, zip and zip and zip. Mere minutes only. And everything seems to be working. Even the old Tech 21 case fits like a glove.
It goes without saying that my first two calls on the “new” phone came from bots. But I’m saying it anyway.
And I’m also saying, “A happy solstice to thee and thine.” Grianstad Sona Daoibh!
Cycle Cave, soon to be but a memory. Photo from the Cycle Cave website.
Another one bites the dust: After 46 years of bicycle retailing, Albuquerque’s Cycle Cave is selling through its inventory and calling it quits.
The father-and-son business wasn’t struggling, according to the Albuquerque Journal. But Hervey and Bob Hawk have been working long hours for the better part of quite some time, and they feel they’ve earned a rest.
Says Bob:
I plan to get back in shape and do some of the bike rides I’ve listened to everyone talk about all these years. I think my first trip might be to Moab. As for Hervey, he has a lot of projects around the house to do. I’m sure his dog Jose’ will be happy he is home all day.
I’ve visited Cycle Cave a time or two. And though I can’t call myself a regular, I’m sorry to see the Hawks fly away.
Mad Blog Media 