BSNYC Friday Un-Quiz!

It's Friday, which means it's time for my latest Outside column!

I know what I'm talking about, too, because believe it or not there was a time when I used to ride the trainer.  Now of course I know better, and I'd give absolutely anything to have all those hours back.  And you know what I'd do with them?  Absolutely nothing.  I'd sit on my ass and watch TV, because that's exactly what I should have been doing then.

In other news, I went for a ride on a bicycle with voluminous tires today:

It was a ride of a little over 30 miles and one that used to result in some hand numbness towards the end back when I was using regular bars.  Well, I'm pleased to announce that with the Jones bars those days are over, and I'm feeling so dexterous I could easily knit you some booties or mend your clothing with a needle and thread at this very moment.  There are "upgrades," and then there are things that actually make your bicycle way better, and these bars have proven themselves to be a perfect example of the latter.

Indeed, the only blemish on this delightful outing was the fishing line I discovered in my derailleur after my chain started jumping around on the cassette:

"No problem," I thought.  "I'll just take the pulley out and extract the fishing line."  But wouldn't you know it, the multi-tool I was carrying did not include the proper Allen key.  Instead, it appeared the good people at Park Tool had seen fit to equip this particular model with both Phillips and slotted screwdrivers instead of the smaller Allen keys.  Therefore I was forced to hack away at the line with the slotted screwdriver blade until I could pull out most of the obstruction.

And of course as I struggled with and cursed whichever angler had failed to clean up after himself I thought of all the poor creatures who must get stuck in this stuff in a regular basis.  I also thought that birds probably use fishing line to make some badass nests, and I bet they tout their layup and weave pattern just like manufacturers of crabon bikes do:

(Laterally stiff yet vertically compliant.)

Oh, wait, sorry about that:

That's better.

Anyway, I hope the next fish that guy catches bites him in the nuts.

And with that I set you free.  May you fly into the weekend like the Helmet-Crested Fredbird.

I remain,

Blah blah blah,

And so forth,



--Wildcat Rock Machine

from Bike Snob NYC http://ift.tt/2y8eYcr