Bike Snob: Systematically & Mercilessly Realigning the World of Cycling

Charismatic people promise stuff, and hopeful people give them whatever the charismatic people claim they need in order to deliver it. You’d think that sort of thing wouldn’t fly after the fifth grade, but it actually soars even higher as we all get older. Sometimes it’s a movie that a studio bills as a hit before it even comes out so that they’ll make millions of dollars before everyone realizes how crappy it is. Sometimes it’s a bank that offers a loan so attractive on the surface that you don’t realize what you got into until the lead balloon drops on your head a few years later. Sometimes it’s a bike company or publication telling you a new wheelset or shifter or coaching system is all you need to close the gap between you and Carlos Sastre. And sometimes it’s just a fad, a look comprised of meaningless logos and attractive “colorways” which you adopt first and ask questions about later—if you ever question it at all. Cycling’s not for everybody, but at the same time there are a lot of people who don’t realize that cycling is for them. And even though bikes are highly fashionable and more companies are selling more stuff than ever, these people may never find it. In fact, all the selling and posturing is often the reason they don’t find it. Really, we’re all just a bunch of fifth graders, and between the Leibowitzes and the Ferbers and even the earnest pawn with a half-baked anti-litter agenda, it’s hard to know what to do. I mean, we all want to go to Great Adventure, and there’s nothing wrong with that. The big question is, who’s going to take us there? Well, some people will give you sales pitches, and others will give you helpful advice, but the catch is in the end you’ve got to just get on the bike and figure it out for yourself. Don’t be afraid to try, because you will figure it out. And you can get there by bike if you want.

even in New York City, where people steal the pigeons.

They’re usually hand-built frames, and they’re often older steel Italian bicycles, generally owned by the sorts of people who are really into wine. The whole “soul” thing is meant to distinguish these craftsman-built bikes from the mass-produced ones, or the ones that are simply more common. It is, however, completely ridiculous.

One of the main reasons people walk around with dogs is so they have an excuse to talk to other people with dogs, or so they can attract attention to themselves due to the impressive pedigree of their dog which has been purpose-bred to rescue wayward hikers from icy crevasses yet spends its entire life shuttling between a 700-square-foot apartment and a 350-square-foot dog run. They even make movies about this, like Must Love Dogs, which I’m afraid to admit I saw, though my excuse is that I was on a plane and there was nothing else to do.

It’s not enough for some people to just have a dog. Their dog also has to have a story. This might mean it’s an exotic breed, or that they bought it from a famous breeder. Or else, if it’s not a designer dog and it came from a shelter, it has to be something “rugged” or “urban,” like a pit bull. The same goes for bikes.

It strikes me as odd that many cyclists don’t use lights at night. Of course, the bicycle industry is at least partially to blame—bikes are pretty much the only form of transportation for which lights are an aftermarket item. (Reflectors don’t count—what’s the point of lighting that depends entirely on other lights?) Besides bicycles, the only fast-moving objects that don’t use lights are missiles, bullets, and bombs, all of which are designed to take people by surprise and run into them. Unless that’s your goal on the bike, too, you should probably use a light.

Knowing what you love is knowing yourself, and something that you love can serve as a guide. It’s a fixed and tangible point in the world on which you can pin your passions and hopes. You can have a relationship with cycling. You can enjoy the discipline of cycling, or the freedom; you can enjoy the physical exertion, or the convenience and relative ease. Regardless, a strong relationship based on love will take you far, and it will also improve other areas of your life. You can depend on cycling in a way you can depend on little else. And it’s always there even when it’s forced aside due to injury or circumstances. Sure, it may be more about the love than the cycling, but if you’re going to love something cycling’s a good choice.

The Beautiful Godzilla is a particular kind of urban female cyclist who rides as though the rest of the world were created simply to yield to her. She’s generally young, good-looking, and clad in expensive clothes.

There’s also the Europhile Righteous Cyclist, who will remind you at every opportunity just how much more bike-friendly cities like Copenhagen and Amsterdam are, and how evil and car-dependent America is.

(Quicksilver is the greatest bicycle messenger movie ever made, inasmuch as it is the only bicycle messenger movie ever made, and it does for messengers what Disorderlies starring the Fat Boys did for hip-hop, which is make it look embarrassingly cartoonish.)