06/15/07 07:37:24 PDT
MORE BEARS, MORE HALLUCINATIONS, AND NO SAG -- THE GREAT DIVIDE RACE



Robic in RAAM 2006

Five days in and sleep-deprived weirdness, prayers for tailwinds, and superhuman feats continue to propel RAAM toward Atlantic City's Boardwalk. First the sad news, something odd happened between race veteran Fabio Biasiolo and his crew and he's hung up his chamois. In pedal-like-mad news, three females are fighting it out for first in the women's division and share a common competitor -- the cut-off at time station 28 in El Dorado, Kansas, where they could all be pulled from the Race for letting their speeds drop below the minimum requirement. Lastly, Robic is off the front and that translates to an 50 mile or so lead. But if you're jonesing for another group of pedalers to keep track of while you're behind the computer, check out the Great Divide Race.

21 mountain bikers will line up in the port of Roosville, Montana at high noon today and head south, down the Continental Divide to Mexico. That's 2,490 miles of off-road pedaling and more than 200,000 feet of climbing. As if that's not hard enough, it's self-supported, so riders have to carry their gear, food, and satellite-Blackberries to check the progress of RAAM.

Last year's GDR winner, Matthew Lee, clocked in at 17 days, 22 hours and 30 minutes. Out of eight finishers, he was the only starter. Keep track of his attempt to defend his crown here.--krcmar


06/13/07 11:01:53 PDT
THE MOST EXCITING SPREADSHEET ON THE INTERNET – RAAM 2007

The Race Across AMerica (RAAM) kicked off on Sunday in Oceanside, California. 24 men and 5 women started pedaling at 6 a.m. local time and as of this writing, more than 72 hours later, not a single rider has thrown in the towel. Some have covered 500 miles in that time and a few have covered twice that, but they’re all making progress towards the home of soft water taffy and beach-side blight, Atlantic City. Racers who complete the 3,042 single stage event, will be able to say that they’ve completed the event that Outside once called the most grueling event in sport.

Many riders will experience hallucinations caused by sleep deprivation and physical maladies ranging from raging saddle sores to hand numbness. Sometimes the latter is so severe, it takes months to heal. And it’s likely that being on the bike for so long with so little rest (most riders sleep between one and three hours per night) will cause at least a handful of riders to temporarily lose all the strength in their neck. These racers will either drop out or jerry-rig a neck brace to hold their head up so they can see the road.

Why do they do it? We’ve read a lot of responses that range from the Mallory-esque “Because it’s there” to some variation of wanting to see how they fare against such a intense, personal challenge.

We also asked the question of why about a million times when we covered the race from coast-to-coast two years ago. The answer that sticks in our head right was from Bob Breedlove.

We talked to the physician and family man daily. He always had a big smile and was happy to see us. There’s a lot to be said about him, but the one thing that we can’t shake is how much he loved to be on his bike. He could be pedaling through 110 degree heat in the desert or through the dead of the night. It didn’t matter for him. He loved it. Loved riding. Loved seeing America from the perch of his saddle. Loved being surrounded by friends and family. He loved the challenge of the race.

And just about all the racers had some element of this: the love being on the bike. Amen to that and Godspeed to RAAM 2007 racers.

Click here to check out the standings and to read the blog of Perry Stone, a former competitor and the best journalist to ever write about the event click here .
--krcmar


06/13/07 10:56:00 PDT
"HEY MAN, DID YOUR SOLO BREAK STICK?"

--krcmar


06/08/07 13:23:00 PDT
LONG SKIDS AND SCRAPER BIKES: TWO VIDEOS FROM THE BAY AREA



We're not sure what's better: the footage on this 2 year-old video or the song that's backing it. What we do know is that we're not going to make it up to the world premiere of the new Mash film in San Francisco tonight. That would suck a whole lot worse if we didn't have the best hip-hop song ever about bikes to chill with. (Thank to Bumbeck at Jalopnik for the heads up on the latter.)

--krcmar


06/08/07 07:07:35 PDT
ONE WHEEL, ONE LOVE: A UNICYCLE SHOP IN THE DESERT



Unicycle shop owner Lisa Auerbach shows off her unicycle track stand skills.

Lisa Anne Auerbach is our favorite revolutionary cyclist/knitter in the world. The multi-talented Los Angeles resident publishes Saddlesore, a zine about the weird shit she experiences while pedaling through Smog City, makes one-of-a-kind sweaters with slogans like “Praise the Lord, Pass the Ammunition” on them, and is generous with the bottle of J & B she keeps in her studio.



Last month, she kicked off a new project: a unicycle rental shop. Like many independent bike dealers, its time was short. The doors were shuttered after only two days, when the art festival that hosted the shop ended. Rumored to be like a smaller Burning Man without the frat-boys-on-ecstasy element, the High Desert Test Sites festival is located near Joshua Tree, California. Unlike Burning Man, financial transactions between attendees are legal, so Auerbach charged 10 cents/hour for rentals. For less than a bit, uni-pedalers were given the use of a cycle, instruction, and the knowledge that first aid was on site. The latter proved unnecessary-- Auerbach returned home with as many Band Aids as she left with. Check out the pics of the riders here and get a gander at the one-wheelers with names like “Pant Shitter,” “Unibomer,” “Tricky Dick” and the rest of the stable right here.





--krcmar


06/04/07 11:55:11 PDT
DRUGS DON'T MAKE YOU FAST, MUSTACHES DO*

A record-setting crowd, as well as a record-breaking group of more than 150 racers showed up for the Trek Hill Climb yesterday in Colorado. As a light drizzle fell from the sky, racers sprinted out of downtown Vail at one minute increments before ascending 1500 vertical feet and climbing for three miles at a steady six percent grade, according to Velo News. Most eyes were on Floyd Landis, who was making his return to non-courtroom competition after the recent unpleasantness following last year's Tour. The former Mennonite had a tough go of it. He came in 8th with a time of 30:27.

The 51-year-old mountain bike legend Ned Overend schooled the field with a time of 27:29 over the 9.8 mile course, with a crushing 21.8 mph average. Rumors that Ned consumed a few shots of Jack Daniels (for its performance-enhancing properties) the night before the race were unconfirmed as we went to press.

*nix that joke, the man whose 'stache was famous finally shaved. --krcmar


06/01/07 17:47:49 PDT
GEAR TEST – PRANA’S NEMESIS KNICKERS



We started testing a bunch of knickers at the end of December and they’re mostly from companies that make cycling-specific gear. Prana is the one exception.

A big name in climbing, yoga, and drum circles, Prana’s soft goods are designed for movement, if not for pedaling. But in this case, that’s not a problem. The pants fit well, are baggy without being hip-hop ridiculous, and do a fine job in the saddle, on the street, or on the yoga mat. So if you want to get a good stretch in before or after a ride, or even pedal to your ashtanga class and not have to change once you get there, the Nemesis is your ally.

Even seam-stretching poses like half-pigeon are no problem. At $55, these Chinese made knickers are the least expensive pair we’ve ridden in and the 98% nylon, 2% spandex fabric is light enough for the warmest rides. The one draw back? The knickers that were designed for rock climbing do not have belt loops. But they do have an adjustable waistband, a couple of good-sized rear pockets, two front pockets, and a side pocket with a zipper to keep your beer money in.
--krcmar


05/19/07 09:30:03 PDT
SAN FRANCISCO UBER ALLES – BIKE TO WORK DAY 2007



San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom directing the attention of the assembled masses to Jerry Brown and Jello Biafra, who had finally made nice and were pedaling by on a tandem on Bike To Work Day 2007.


National Bike To Work Day was Thursday and the numbers are in: San Francisco kicked ass. The city of City Lights clocked a serious increase in the amount of cyclists: 647 pedalers were counted by the San Francisco Municipal Transportation Agency riding eastbound between 8 and 9 a.m. on a section of Market Street. Cyclists were 54% of all traffic heading that direction, personal autos followed (42%), while taxis and transit vehicles made up the remainder.

Those numbers are big even for SF – up from 509 cyclists at the same location and time window last year and almost twice as much as a normal day (328 on the Wednesday before before). --krcmar


05/17/07 08:03:31 PDT
DON'T CALL THEM "CAPRIS"




Here at Donkey HQ we've been checking out a whole lot of knickers since the beginning of the year. We've been pedaling in them, hanging in them, and doing a whole lotta post-ride stretching in 'em. We'll start posting results shortly. In the meantime, checkout the article in The New York Timesabout 3/4 pants that were test-ridden by one of New York's fastest messengers:6 Racing's Pablo Airaldi. --krcmar


05/15/07 10:37:43 PDT
IF YOU'VE GOT 'EM, PROTECT 'EM



The album art from the Circle Jerks' album "Group Sex" on a frame pad.

Whether you're talking about the first pressing of "Pay to Cum" on Bad Brains records or your brand new Merckx, a big scratch can put huge kink in your pedal stroke. To protect yourself from the latter while flying your punk rock flag, check out the new top tube protectors from Baltimore's Shop Gentei.

Made exclusively for the boutique, the limited edition, $25 pads come in a couple of designs: the cover art from the Circle Jerks' album "Group Sex" or a monochromatic collection of patches from bands like D.I., Black Flag, and GG Allin(?). Get yours now, before Henry Rollins' lawyers get to Gentei.



More patches than a group of suburban 15 year-olds on St. Mark's Place--the new top tube protector from Shop Gentei.

No word on a metal version of the frame pads. Hessians will have to wait until this fall, when Vans releases its Iron Maiden shoe.



--krcmar


04/29/07 10:58:25 PDT
CHEAPER THAN A TRIP TO THE DENTIST


There's no crash like a bike crash where you lose some of your pearly/nicotine-stained whites. If you want to front like you still have some fronts, cover up yer mug with Trackstar's "The Teeth" bandana. Less expensive than a trip to Mr. Bling, the bandana has two options. One side has a set of human teeth screened on it and the second features a gnarly set of wolf teeth, perfect for Los Angeles' fastest Monday night ride. --krcmar


04/23/07 16:50:37 PDT
FAT BOTTOMED GIRLS, 10 SPEEDS, ONE VIDEO, AND NOT A STICH OF CLOTHING: QUEEN'S "BICYCLE RACE"

You say that you're tired of fixed gear bikes. That metal sucks. And that bands with mascots, even animated ones, are tired. You want some music that rocks, dammit, and includes bicycles.

Don't say we never share. Queen's classic song "Bicycle Race" is coming at you. All the rides in this video have gears, non-aero brakes, and is evidence that there's no skinsuit like a birthday suit. Cover the eyes of those under 18 and pray that everyone involved finishes without touching wheels, because there's a lot of skin to be lost in this one.

Long before Lance Armstrong or even Greg Lemond made lycra marginally acceptable on this side of the pond, Bruce Dickinson was killing it all over suburban America while wearing tights. Sure, the Iron Maiden frontman was rocking leather vests, cut-off t-shirts, and studded armbands that went from wrist to elbow above the belt, but below?

Tights. Sometimes the color of faded Easter eggs.

And Maiden fans loved it, ripping pictures of the band from Circus magazine and putting them up in their black-light illuminated bedrooms and high school lockers. Ironically, if you weren't in Maiden, wearing lycra in front of these longhairs was shorthand for "let's fight."

Boston's Revolution Bicycle Repair finally brings the motorheads and pedalers together with its "fixed gear fiend" T-shirt, featuring Maiden's mascot Eddie wielding a bloody Biospace crankset. They're available for $10 for the rest of the month and only in medium.

For your listening pleasure, check out the best song ever* written below.




*that has a video with bow-and-arrow toting Native Americans on bicycles, boneshakers, and a two-wheeler built for four.



--krcmar

--krcmar

photo from 10 a.m.





photo from 11 a.m.

The pro women's circuit race is cancelled, dual slalom qualifying is delayed until one, the campers are trying to make nice with the hotel dwellers, and
high-end ponchos are going for top dollar.
--krcmar

words and pix by Andy Takakjian

Upon review and reflection, it comes to mind that man has outwitted the mountain as he always does. That cunning organism, more devious than a coyote and more durable than a cockroach, has beaten poor, old planet earth on the simplest of terms: the humble, yet gyroscopically dynamic, bicycle. 90 ascents to the top of Fargo has nearly capped the effort for all. Like a Picasso who encompassed all art in Toto, leaving nothing left in his path. 90 ascents has surely done it. Next year's winner will certainly top 100 (becoming mere lappage) thereby consigning the Fargo Street hill Climb into a virtual neutered annulment of future endeavor. As Richard Noble broke the speed of sound in a land vehicle in 1997's Thrust SSC, the point of engagement is now left for mere tourists and dreaming children. A vacant silent spot where history once blazed.

"George Washington slept here."
"John Lennon stood here.”
"Caesar was slain there."
"Lenny Bruce occupied that cell..."

Fargo will pass into history as the hill that was once unobtainable -- a "Once upon a time;"an Everest -- as a has been.

At the moment 100 ascents are clocked, the books should be closed and a monument erected. Let the silence pour over the site like hot fudge and caramel over vanilla ice cream. All future attempts are moot. Merely spectacle and tradition. To the athletes -- Fargo becomes just another hot and sweaty place in the Smogtown sun with beer-filled bicyclists on beach cruisers brandishing old-fashioned caveman bravado.

It soon shall be finished Luke, you have used the Force wisely.--takakjian

MAN AGAINST EARTH
words and pix by Andy Takakjian

A secret location. A steep location. A pinnacle of torture and bravery. Colossus against the wheel bathed in agony and broken chains. For 40 years humans of all species have attempted to conquer the mighty Fargo Street in Los Angeles. This is a backwards Hal Roach/Mack Sennett short. Instead of a runaway Model T or the Little Rascals careening downhill in a homemade fire engine, homo sapiens attempt to pump bicycles to the top without popping hamstrings out of their flesh like pistons rocketing out of an engine block at Pomona raceway at the Winternationals.

At 43 degrees/33 percent grade, Fargo is the steepest paved, residential street in the country. Roughly 120 yards long, it is the first in a series of undulations in L.A.'s topography (along with sister streets Baxter & Duane) that signify that San Francisco can be considered flat compared to the ever varying landscape of Smogtown. The west side can blow me... ain't no fat folks here in Echo Park baby! Suck down some more Red Bull pablum and try me. Nipple to the bottle.



The Fargo Hill climb is tough like the Baja 1000... grueling and tortuous: fortitude and balls like King Kong are requisite -- and for what? A silly patch with a clown on it -- that's it. No cash, no beer, no laurels and loving cups drooling with champagne--not even a kiss from an umbrella girl or beauty queen. Just the fact that you can remember your name and how to spell it upon completion is the prize as the ride organizer Kermit hands you your clown patch.

Double over and have a smoke. The summit is the payoff.

Are you man enough? Are you woman enough? Are you 8-year-old boy enough to make it? Krank up der Kraftwerk eine kleine mensch maschine. This is a place where heroes are made, not born, with silver spokes in their mouths. Badass MoFo is mere subtext and superfluous. Exploding ass cheeks, crotch sweat, and milky goo oozing from eyeballs are de rigueur.

The current record more than 90 ascents by a 62-year-old man.

Poseurs with fatblobs erupting from their lycra may admire from the guardrail and acrophobes shall stay home on their Sears exorcist bikes.

Europe endless...but Fargo is the Wild West.

--takakjian

--krcmar

It's warming up on the East Coast and the racer boys have been donning tights and heading out to training series in P Park in Brooklyn and Central Park in Manhattan as well as Bethel, Connecticut for weeks.

Tomorrow, is the first installment of Skidface, a collection of competitions for the flatland, fixed crowd. Events include sprints, skids, tricks, and obstacles.


--krcmar

Here in Los Angeles, just minutes ago in the hella hipster neighborhood of Silver Lake, we saw a couple of bike choppers. One had a red, white, and blue fake gas tank ala Easy Rider, ape hanger bars, and was attention stealing enough to get us to forget what the other looked like. Far from the Frankenbikes from the likes of Chunk 66 or Boston's Scul crew, these things were pretty enough to take home to mom.

But New York's Josh Hadar is bringing the art chopper category to a different level completely. The former co-owner of Studio 54 has built 13 of these handmade rigs during the past two years, accoding to New York Dialy Photo. Each and everyone took about a month to make and each comes complete with a motor assist in case you want to make like Peter Fonda/Dennis Hopper and or at least make a run for the parish line.



Bikes by Josh Hadar, pix by NewYorkDailyPhoto.com.



--krcmar

fin du cycle

by Stephen Cole

(Death Valley Double Century)

Poi si rivolse, e parve di coloro
che corrono a Verona il drappo verde
per la campagna; e parve di costoro
quelli che vince, non colui che perde.

-- Dante, Inferno, XV, 121-124

("Then he turned round, and seemed to be one
Who at Verona ran across the plain
For the Green Mantle; and seemed among
The ones who wins, and not the one who loses.")



Exhaustion gloating in the bone,
the mountains of the monster
In the cold shadowless valley of death,
Muscle separating from the bone.
Pain speaks. Live through this

Untimely time. Pain on pain,
Back turned to hot carbon steel,
Wheel rolling mind, wheel-heaving pump and pedal.
Cold hurling death throws up the ghost.
Don't fall victim to the comfort of pain,
Colliding bark and cambium
In the mind's shifting sand:

She appears
Like a reclining Buddha
Painting toe nails,
Pain red, my red pain -
I cannot find her breath anywhere -
She does not see me. She,
Painting toe nails, pain red,
my red pain.

I know all fathers are dead though they live.
I know they live though they are dead.
Oh, be with me now, Baudrillard!

Somewhere in the distance
A child fractures a dry porcelain dish
That carried the sun. Form nowhere
She hands me the brush.

A German doctor
In clean white coat open my back,
To Inject ammonia in the blossoming wound.

(They set back and study the writhe.)

In the ghostlike descent of despair,
Pain trundles behind me now like barking dogs.
In a day without life, I find my breath.
I drop the brush and break into an open summit.
She is gone. I breathe once more.

I breathe me in.
I breathe me out.
I find myself in the middle.
I sing. I exit.
I know this can be done.

The attached pic is from last weekend's Death Valley Double Century, specifically at the Badwater checkpoint, which was also mile 135 or so into the ride...

This pic is also after 9000 feet of climbing, which was reasonably mellow, actually, if one had the right mental attitude... (I got through the tough parts of the climbs by repeatedly visualizing a girl I know painting her toenails. In the middle of the hallucination she hands me the brush...)

Anyway: after the climbs and a descent down from Jubilee Pass and onto the road to Badwater, it was forty miles or so of level terrain, where the road was rougher and tougher than egg shells in an armadillo omelette... the relentless bounciness of bad pavement was exacerbated by humbling 40 mph winds that blew in the riders' faces like the billowing artic breaths that once knocked Nanook of the North off axis.

For the slow, gnarsome grind of those blustery forty miles, my feet hurt, my knees pinged in pain with each rotation of the crank, my ass felt like each cheek was sitting on its own ice pick and my hands were rattled numb to the point that I could not clench my fists nor use my fingers to prod the shifters. During this time of torture, I wanted to a) throw up and b) take a hacksaw to the bicycle, and reconstruct it into something useful, like a a carbon fiber swing set or something... through all of that struggling, I remember one of my few lucid thoughts was the om-like meditation on Post-modernist Jean Baudrillard's* words about the desert being "a slow catastrophe"...

20-odd miles after this pic, the cycling police flagged down Stephen Krcmar and myself and forced us to stop riding. This was the real crime: We were less than fifty miles from the finish -- and it was doable.

A week later and the fact that I did not finish the stated goal of 200 miles still smokes what is left of my cycling shorts.

I crave "closure." Ergo, I am going back out to Death Valley to do it again and finish... either at the next full moon or during the Fall...

*(For what it's worth, Baudrillard died three days after the "slow catastophe" ride....)

(photo by Luz Angelica Vazquez)
--coonce

(Mike Spinner spinning around three times in his history-making 1080)

18 year-old Mike Spinner made history last month when he landed a 1080 at the X-Air contest in New Zealand. Riding his way into the history books is nothing new for the teen. Although he was competing as an amateur as recently as last summer, the kid from Miami has travelled with a huge buzz around him since word got out that he could stick 720 tailwhips, a trick no one else could land.

With half the pro class looking on, he nailed the 720 tailwhip last August at Free Flow Tour Finals in Portland and earned himself a spot to compete against the pros. He's shot straight to the top since then and landed on the podium (2nd place) in New Zealand.



Mike Spinner throwing down at 720 tailwhip. Photo courtesy of LAT34.com.--krcmar

As the sneaker-heads over at DQM and track fanatics at Trackstar continue to work on their joint project building badass fixies that are inspired by 80s freestyle bikes, a design shop across the pond has unveiled its own one-of-a-kind bike commisioned by Nike to celebrate the 25th anniversary of its Air Force 1 shoe. This silver anniversary two-wheeler is not for sale. Instead, it is on display at the high couture boutique bazaar, Dover Street Market. Beyond drool-worthy, the rig with stainless steel lugs and and hand-polished cranks is bringing out some downright bad behaviour from the well-heeled. "Right now there are 100 trustafarian guys in their girlfriends' pants lining up to jerk-off to this thing," reports our buddy and Custom Cycling Apparel Czar, Johnny H.

--krcmar

( A sneak peak of Swobo's new fixie, the Sanchez, which will be available in a few days. Photo courtesy of Swobo's sister site How to Avoid the Bummer Life)

The news of another bike company introducing a fixed gear rig usually has us scampering for the door. Swobo is the exception. Tim Parr and company has been making cycling gear that can make a seamless transition from bike seat to bar stool since 1991. If there's any one left who can put a new spin on the ubiquitous urban rig of choice it's these guys.

The project began last summer when Swobo brought on designer Sky Yaeger, who had spent 17 years designing and spec'ing Bianchis. Her job was to create Swobo Street Bikes. A former track racer, she's been riding fixies for a long time. And smoothing out pedal stroke is only one reason she likes 'em. Another is function: "It’s easier to carry a six-pack if you don’t shift,"Yaeger told us years ago.

The first bike of the three model line, the Sanchez, will be released on March 1. The $600 rig comes in five sizes, has a flip-flop hub, a riser bar, and a straight fork. Its galvanized finish is smooth, understated, and will match the Jethro Tule in your pocket quite nicely but render the bottle opener on the Tule redundant -- the Sanchez's seat has a built-in bottle opener.
--krcmar

Hippie-folkie Neil Young once sang that he had seen the needle and the damage done, but that was before last Sunday, when the 2007 Amgen Tour of California reached its Final Stage and loop-de-looped around the city streets of downtown Long Beach.

In an art statement about the ubiquity of test tube-based chemical enhancements corrupting the sport of professional cycling that may or may not have been inspired by Young, LA-based bicycling boho and sprocket-power advocate Alex Amerri fabricated a four-foot cardboard prop syringe, strapped it to his back and pedaled 30 miles down the LA River bike path down to the coast where he gathered next to the peloton as it made its way round-and-round the improvised velodrome.

During subsequent loops around the closed circuit, Amerri shook his mother-of-all horse needles at Levi Leipheimer, Bobby Julich, Jens Voigt and the rest of the assembled Superheroes of Cycling, eliciting looks of bewilderment, followed by disgust and -- at least from riders at the back of the pack -- muted chortling.

The prop Syringe seemed to serve as a sort of Greek Chorus for the circuit, acting as a voice of conscience for a sport that has more notoriety as a culture that strives to circumvent its own rules than its compelling competition. The Syringe seemed to be saying that the Sport must atone for its Duplicity and Corruption.



Which is not to say that the Prop Syringe didn't inflict its own damage: Under the "It's-Funny-Until-Somebody-Loses-An-Eye Dept.," as Amerri and his unwieldy Syringe made their way towards the Start/Finish and through the crowded Tour Midway/Lifestyle Expo, he nearly punctured out the orbs of a few unsuspecting spectators, who were forced to duck while merely trying to grab a slice of pizza or talk to a sales rep at the Shimano tent.--coonce




RELATED: WIRE DONKEY PHOTO ESSAY: FINAL STAGE: EPO TOUR OF CALIFORNIA

(Jan Ullrich caricature courtesy of Hammann Artwork.)

Jan Ullrich, the first German to win the Tour de France (1997), the only one to place second five times, and the man who famously said ""I have seen many lean riders in the peloton, but very few Tour winners," after receiving too much guff about his early season weight retired from bike racing today, according to Deutsche Welle, a German international broadcasting service.

But he's not leaving the racing game altogether. Ullrich has signed on as an advisor to the Volksbank cycling team. For more info, check out Velo News.--krcmar

Back in the 80s, BMX kids knew a few things:
Radical Rick ruled, Oakley 3's were the young boy's equivalent of getting to second base, and a cool freestyle bike was as good as things got in the physical world.

When Kyle Demers picked up a hot pink GT Performer with white Skyway mags he found out that freestyle bikes are just a fun to pedal as an adult. He wasn't the only one who thought so -- the bike was pinched last year.

Larceny being the mother of invention, he had a great idea: build a handful of high-performance fixies that look like old school BMX bikes. Hutch Pro Star? Check. SE PK Ripper? All over it. Purple GT Performer? That picture is below.

Kyle works at New York City's skateboard and sneaker boutique Dave's Quality Meat in the East Village. He hooked up with the fixed-only bike shop, Trackstar, to get the project rolling. Each bike is one of a kind and they're only making one of each model. There's going to be a total of 12 and they're using Pista Concept frames, stripping them down, powder coating them, and applying handmade decals. Kyle picked up a lot of vintage components like Viscount saddles and ODI Mushroom grips online to build the bikes up. Seatposts, stems, riserbars, cranksets, and Aerospoke wheels were procured and sent out to be powdercoated, so they would match.

The result? Bikes that are more pimped than a loading dock full of brand new, 1985 Air Jordan 1's and with none of the shitty politics that the swoosh boys bring to the game. Like the Indy Fab rig inspired by the Skyway TA that was on display at Interbike 2006, these bikes are almost too nice pedal. But if you're lucky enough to pick up one of the 12, you really owe to everyone else to show it off. That's what Radical Rick would do.



(The new one-of-kind fixie by DQM and Trackstar that was inspired by the GT Performer.)



(Eddie Fiola not included but the dice valve caps are. Pix courtesy of Chris Keffee.)--krcmar

(Omar Romero goes round the outside, round the outside on the speed trials course at the 3Ride Competion in Cleveland. photo: Alan L. Davis)

Mountain biking in the winter usually demands heavy gloves and a whole lot more gear than anyone would like to put on. That was the case in Cleveland as well. Then came Ray. He emptied his bank account, called just about every friend in his phone book, and put hammer to nail. The result? An 88,000 square-foot moutain bike park. Cleveland has been a winter mountain bike mecca ever since.

Ray's Mountain Bike Indoor Park was the first of its kind when it opened three years ago and has a cross-country course with beginnner, intermediate, and expert sections, a dual-pump track, street park, jump to foam pit, box jumps and two lounges.

The park hosted the 3Ride competition during the second week of February and Bike Mag and photographer Alan Davis were there to check out the action. Click on the Bike link above for more photos.



(Kirt Vories spins his bars round-round, like a record, baby, over the Kenda hip. Barspin? Yep -- he's only running a rear brake. photo: Alan L. Davis)--krcmar

Monster Track 8, one of the largest and longest running alleycats on the left coast, went down on Saturday in New York. It's one of the few messenger races that requires competitors to run fixies and it's the first to go Madison Ave. with its own video advertisement. That clip is below.



Short teaser by Michael Green



The race began at Sara D. Roosevelt Park with a 65-block drag race up 1st avenue. There was ice, there was snow, there was even a guy on a penny farthing. (In a related story, there were reports that white-belted Williamsburg hipsters were scouring the city that day to replace their brand new IROs with this 19th century technology.) 153 racers made their way to the first checkpoint at 61st Street.

Riders hit four checkpoints before heading south to the start for a new manifest, according to Razor Apple which sent them into midtown, downtown, and to Trackstar before heading across the Williamsburg Bridge into Brooklyn.


Alfred won the race for the third year in a row, Felipe came in second, a minute behind, and Austin also skidded onto the podium. Heidi, Dagga, and Heather did the 1-2-3 in the women's division. Click here for full results or check the video below for some footage of the event.


--krcmar

02/17/07 09:46:22 PST
APRIL SHOWERS BRING NEW WATERPROOF GEAR



Although hot and heavy is fine for 1-900 calls, it's not the ideal choice for a messenger bag. But if you're humping your laptop around when rain is in the forecast, you don't have much of a choice. It's either go with a dry bag or risk losing all your stolen music. Until now.

Giving blood while on the bike is usually shorthand for leaving some flesh on the tarmac. Until now. Cyclists in Los Angeles will meet today, go on a short ride, and donate a bit of the red. This pedal-to-blood-donation is part of the two-week long Bike Winter celebration. Pedalers will congregate at the Santa Monica/Vermont Red Line Station at 11 a.m. and pedal to Cedars Sinai. Everyone is welcome, regardless of hemocrit levels. Just doing the ride will get you a spoke card and those who belly up to the needle will score two movie passes.
--krcmar

Playing football in the pouring rain is not easy. Playing guitar and pretending it isn't pissing cats and dogs isn't any easier. But if you saw this year's Superbowl half-time show, you couldn't help but be impressed by the Artist Formerly Known As Vanity's Plaything. He rocked through his set like the inclement weather didn't exist. Was this an example of a master performer at work?

Perhaps. But his immunity to the elements probably has more to do with the fact that he's from Minneapolis, where they have balls the size of 53-tooth chainrings. Case in point: last Satuday's Stupor Bowl in Prince's hometown. It was -10 degrees and with windchill that number dropped to -35. That didn't affect the numbers. About 280 riders competed in the race, which made it the largest field in the alleycat's decade-long history.

Although the final results haven't been posted online for the 30+ mile event, we waded through a slew of pictures and posted a few. They're below. Check the official site later in the week for more info. If you can't wait, check out this
message board. Still want more? Jump in the shower, don't dry off, and drag some rollers into a walk-in cooler and pedal for three hours. It'll be just like being there.





photo by dancypants



some more hot dancypants action


Ice Beard photo by deplaqer

Another Ice Beard. Yar. photo by deplaqer



Picture by Jim Lahey.




Steph won first place in the women's division and 7th overall. She scored a custom messenger bag and a complete Masi from Behind the Bars bike shop for landing on the top step of the ladies' podium. Picture by Jim Lahey.--krcmar

When the going gets tough, the tough takes the piss. To wit, the Society of People Who Make Their Own Shit (SOPWAMTOS)was created as a response to the hypocrisy of members of bike industry who claimed to make their own gear when in reality they were outsourcing it to companies overseas.

The brainchild of Bruce Gordon of Bruce Gordon Cycles and Mark Norstad of Paragon Machine Works, SOPWAMTOS awards the golden toilet seat known as "Golden Toidy" in various categories like Best Use of Indentured Servitude (The Chinese Bicycle Industry), Best American Bicycle Made in Taiwan (Specialized) and the prestigious "I Invented the Mountain Bike Award" (Gary Fisher).

Unlike a black eye, a Golden Toidy is forever and if you act now you can add your
very own to your mantle. This particulary Toidy is shaped like a fist and was fished out of the trash following the 2005 Interbike trade show, according to the eBay seller. The plaque reads, "The Golden Fist Award" Presented to CANNONDALE For Their "Successful" Reorganization Golden Toidy."

The Bethel, Connecticut based manufacturer who originally earned this award didn't have to pay a penny for it, but it did have to endure an ugly crash and burn in the world of motorcycle manufacturing and a subsequent bankruptcy. So at $31, the price at the time of this writing, it's a steal.


Photo courtesy of velonews.com
--krcmar

Want a snack on the fly? It can be healthy, quick, convenient, or good: choose three. On a bike? Scratch convenience off the list. Unless you're in Portland, Oregon.


Black Sheep Bakery opened a bike-through window last week at its vegan coffee and carb shop. Locking up your rig to get a cup of black gold is no longer necessary and anyone who has unintentionally gotten their sweat on while waiting for the person in front of them to finish their "half-caf, half-decaf Kenyan blend with a pinch of sugar in the raw and steamed soy" order can appreciate that.

The bakery has a coffee/muffin/patch kit special ($6), a philosophy and back story that you can't help but respect, and they admit that most edibles that are sans animal products are crap.

"Let's face some facts, folks: most vegan baked goods are cardboard dry, cardboard tasty, gritty, collapsed, too healthy, ugly, not sweet enough and made with wheat or refined cane sugar," they say. "Second, that quality vegan treats are hard to find and because of the thousands of crappy recipes baking at home can seem daunting. Not anymore."

Not in Portland? Black Sheep Bakery will come to you via mail-order.




Images courtesy of BikePortland.org
--krcmar

Last year, during the first annual Bike Winter in Los Angeles, we were telling one of our buddies in New York about the two weeks of two-wheeled fun, when he stopped us in our tracks and said, "You guys have no right to call what happens out there between December and March winter." We looked outside when he said that. LA was sunny and about 72 degrees that day. We didn't have much to say. This year it's a different story: they had snow in Malibu last week. Totally winter.

Anyway, Bike Winter kicks off tonight on the westside. It's the two-year anniversary of
Santa Monica Critical Mass and the Opening Party will follow at the Green Headquarters. There will be beer, Mamma's Hot Tamales, and raffle goodies from companies like Chrome Bags, Bike Attack, Bicycle Kitchen, Rapha, and Swobo. They'll even be a special appearence by DJ Muck Muck.

Tomorrow, while LA kicks into full-force Bike Winter mode, Phoenix will host their first-ever alleycat. $5 gets you racing.



But who are we kidding? Everyone knows that the real athletic event of the weekend is going to be fought out by a bunch of tough Midwesterners. All eyes are on them. The Stupor Bowl is tomorrow. One of the longest running alleycats in the world, this race is no joke. Listen to what they have to say about the game time temps: Yes, folks it’s looking like we’ll finally be getting some real Minnesota winter weather for this year’s Stupor Bowl. As of Thursday, February 1, the forecast calls for a high of one degree F (that’s "F"for Fucking Freezing). Yeah, that’s pretty damn cold. But hey, nobody ever said Stupor Bowl would be easy. It if was easy we’d call it Super Bowl and you’d be playing some lame-ass, over-hyped game in Miami, Florida making $32 mill a year to run around in pads and knock over other whiny, overpaid man-boys to the ground in pursuit of an oblong ball.






--krcmar

NEW YORK CITY--If you pedal over to the Museum of Modern Art today at 5 p.m. you'll see a film that begins with the setting sun. As the fiery ball of heat heads west, the individual stories of a group of what MOMA likes to calls "five archetypal New Yorkers" -- an electrician, a bike courier, an executive, an office worker, and a postal worker -- begin. Each character stars in their own vignette.

After being roused from sleep, these nocturnal folks, open their eyes, slide into their days, err, nights and get out into the City of Glass that is Gotham. Their goal? [CAUTION: ART FILM SPOILER AHEAD] To transcend.

Each character gets their own 13 minutes of screen time and are played by actors (Tilda Swinton and Donald Sutherland) or musicians (Seu George and stage-fright & freak-out-prone Chan Marshall of Cat Power) who've already earned their proverbial 15 minutes of fame. One of the interesting things about these films is that they're all played simultaneously on eight different exterior walls of MOMA and its surrounding midtown neighborhood. Even if you're focusing on one, there's at least another visible peripherally so you can peep one and visually eavesdrop on another.

The bike messenger is played by musician and actor Ryan_Donowho who gets his subterrain percussion on by heading down into the subway and banging out a quickening beat on a plastic pail until he attains, what MOMA flacks describe as "a state of frenzied rapture." The other four players also strive to find ecstasy in motion.

Like many a protagonist in Paul Auster's books the characters in sleepwalker use the city and their positions within it as tools to disappear. But that's where the similarity with LA-based artist Doug Aitken's characters and Auster's ends. Where Auster's fictitious folk fall off the map, Aitken's rise about it like a spinning Sufi. And he tells that story visually -- sometimes when the characters hit their crescendo the image literally breaks down, sometimes to just a few, blocky pixels. Hella deep, huh? The characters on screen get so high that they dissolve to the most basic of building blocks? We haven't seen it yet, but it can't be any worse than a film that features Jessica Simpson as a bike messenger.

Doug Aitken's "sleepwalkers" will be viewable from West 53 Street, between Fifth and Sixth avenues; West 54 Street, between Fifth and Sixth avenues; from an open lot adjacent to the American Folk Art Museum that can be entered from either West 53 Street or West 54 Street; and in MoMA’s Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Sculpture Garden, whose gates on West 54 Street will be open to the public from 5:00 to 10:00 p.m. each evening for the duration of the project. The last entrance to the Garden is at 9:45 p.m.



--krcmar