Some might scoff and call this brake useless, but I disagree. Meanwhile, half a continent away, a reader in Philadelphia snapped a shot of another innovative cyclocross bike: Again, I believe fender use is a personal choice, but I also think that maybe a better term for these sorts of things might be "filth prophylactic." That should keep everybody happy. Then why call a plastic diving board a fender? This should be as important to the anti-fenderites as it is to the fenderites, because a liberal fender interpretation might inadvertently place you among the fendered when you really don't want to be there. Would you call a soccer ball hat a helmet? No you wouldn't. Is a fender anything that protects you from mud or water, or must it have struts, mount to eyelets, and offer full coverage in order to be called a fender? This may not seem important, but if the word "fender" is applied too liberally than pretty much anything can be considered a fender. I'd hate to resurrect the dreaded "fender debate," but regardless of where you stand on fender use I do think it's legitimate to question whether these sorts of clip-on attachments actually qualify as fenders. As you can see, the front end sports a set of aerobars and a slick tire, and the rear rolls on a knobby tire protected by some sort of plastic protuberance. This cyclocross bike is a time trial in the front, and a mudfest in the back. Speaking of unorthodox handlebar setups, another reader in Wisconsin has forwarded me this photo of a rolling mullet: In any case, I'm not sure how secure this whole thing is, but it's certainly inspiring. In a way they're like the duct tape of cycling components. Instead of Sheldon's flat bar/drop bar setup mounted via two stems sharing the steer tube, this rider joins a pair of riser bars and a pair of flat bars by means of a pair of bar ends and some copper elbows:Īs we've seen before, there is no greater temptation for the inventive cyclist than the bar end. However, this rider takes a somewhat different approach. The dual handlebar setup does have historical precedent, and was pioneered by none other than Sheldon Brown. Here's a photograph of one bold rider who palps two, sent to me by a reader in Austin: (Though many of them should be, judging by the condition of their toenails.) Similarly, not every cyclist is afraid to commit to one set of handlebars. Not every cyclist is afraid to wear SPD sandals. More importantly, their equipment choices, bike setup, and wardrobes are not dictated by fashion. They don't blindly trust in the Lord, or in a "safety kippah," or in a deflated soccer ball. I'm surprised the fixed-gear freestylers didn't also get in on this, since apparently cyclists were "encouraged to ride though the enormous cathedral," and I'd think the opportunity for them to make videos of themselves doing chainring grinds on church pews to a Slayer soundtrack would be too good to pass up.įortunately, though, there are riders out there who have the courage to think for themselves. Judging from the turnout at the mass blessing, I can only assume many local cyclists have now taken their leap of faith even further by simply trusting in the Lord to protect them. Protecting your brain is only worth so much if you're not using it in the first place. Certainly the helmet's still a good idea, since once disaster strikes it will protect your head better than a soccer ball will, but it's not going to keep stuff from happening in the first place. It can find you regardless of whether you're wearing a Bell, or a Giro, or a flat-brim cap, or a Euro-schmata, or a Stetson, or even a soccer ball. (I was very nearly laid out by a bike salmon yesterday evening.) Many of us may us place too much trust in our " safety kippahs" to protect us, though the truth is that danger does not discriminate by headwear. +N.Y.+_+Region+>+Slide+Show+>+Slide+1+of+11.jpg">įrankly, I find this disturbing, though it goes a long way towards explaining all the awful riding I've been seeing recently. Had I seen the emerging visage of the demon Charles Nelson Reilly, I might have taken part in last weekend's mass bicycle blessing at the Cathedral of St. Taken individually they are entertaining, but when considered in their gestalt they paint a disturbing picture-in fact, it's a velvet portrait of pure evil. I've been fortunate enough to receive emails recently from all over the world (or at least from places outside of New York) alerting me to various quirks, peculiarities, and abominations in the world of cycling.
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