Interbike may be over, but that doesn’t mean we won’t be keeping you right up to the nanosecond on the latest and greatest.
Here, for example, Miss Mia Sopaipilla test-drives the Feline-O-Fluffer, the very latest in cat entertainment and climate control technology.
And would you believe it? It also dries clothes.
* Cat not included.
… right now over at VeloNews.com, in partnership with CyclingDirt.com.
• Late update: Christ, that was woeful. The kindest thing I can say about it was that it was better than no live streaming video at all. Phil and Paul have nothing to fear. Neither do Beavis and Butthead. Here’s a hint and a half for your ass, guys: People watch streaming video to find out what’s going on in the fucking race, not what you’re having for lunch.
Have you ever noticed that their stuff is shit but your shit is stuff? — George Carlin
A cycling journalist is a person who can hold two completely contradictory notions at the same time without his or her head exploding.
For example, bike racing is simultaneously beautiful and ravaged by dope (think Lindsay Lohan, if you can bear it). And a $2,679.99 Fisher Transport+ cargo bike “isn’t remotely cheap” while a $7,659.99 Trek Top Fuel mountain bike apparently is eminently affordable.
I wouldn’t buy either bike, myself. I have an old titanium hardtail that suits my mountain-biking needs, and for shopping expeditions I can always ride the Soma Double Cross with panniers fore and aft ($519.98 frame and fork; build kit, racks and panniers not included).
The biggest quarrel I have with both the Transport+ and the Top Fuel involves not their pricing but their extreme specialization. You probably shouldn’t ride the former on a nifty bit of single-track or the latter to the Safeway. But I can handle both on the Double Cross. Five minutes with a couple hex keys and a combo wrench and I can have my choice of a loaded tourer, sport tourer, rigid 700c mountain bike or cyclo-cross bike.
And that’s no shit. Stuff. Whatever.
Well, he went down down down
And the devil said where you been
He went down down down
He was screamin’ down around the bend
Down down down
This boy went solid down
He was always cheatin’ and he always told lies
He was always cheatin’ and he always told lies
Down down down
This boy went solid down
He went down — “Down, Down, Down,” Tom Waits
Every circus needs a sideshow, and every sideshow needs a freak.
Imagine riding that bad boy at speed along America’s crumbling infrastructure with nothing between you and Allah but a little Lycra. And then go clean yourself up and change your underwear.
Meanwhile, after a month of waiting, Ritchey finally sent me a new fork for the road bike. That’s the good news. The bad news is that this one appears to be defective too. I’m awaiting a final evaluation from the wizards at Old Town, who have logged more time wrenching on these things than I have riding them, but fearing the worst I rang up my old buddy Brent Steelman at Steelman Cycles, and he has graciously agreed to build me a steel road fork with his very own hands.
In the meantime, if you’re riding a Ritchey Comp road fork I’d advise that you have your local shop check the sucker for evil spirits before launching your next Il Falco attack on the local alpine descent. Consider the potential for lower rebirth. You could come back as an Irish-American rumormonger of the cycling persuasion.
Well, baby, what I couldn’t do
With plenty of money and you. — “With Plenty of Money and You,” Count Basie
There’s an old gag about the typical bicycle racer being the kind of guy whose car is worth less than the bike on its roof rack. But y’know, that ain’t all that high a bar to hop anymore.
Check out what one of my colleagues considers to be “performance bikes at prices for real people.” * A $3,000 frameset? A $7,000 ready-to-ride bike? If these are down-to-earth prices, I’m clearly living somewhere around the planet’s core, because the only way I could afford either of those items is if I did my shopping with the old S&W hand cannon instead of a Visa card.
You know what you can get for a hair over $3,000? A 2009 Honda Rebel. That’s right — a fucking motorcycle. Don’t gotta pedal it or nothin’.
Know what you can get for $7,000? A complete, ready-to-ride custom Steelman road bike with an Ultegra build kit — plus a spare frameset in case anything unpleasant happens to the first one.
And for $10,000? You can have my 2005 Subaru Forester. It’s got a Thule roof rack, too, so you can slap a couple $7,000 road bikes up there and fit the profile of the typical bike racer.
In the damp and steamy dreams of the cycling press, anyway.
* The headline has since been changed to something a little more sensible. So we’ve got that going for us.
