Retroactive Douchebag of the Week: Greg LeMond

Took a last minute trip out of town hence no official Douchebag of the Week for last week.

Good thing Bicycle.net was there to step it up in my absence by doing my job for me.

Greg, there's so many off color things I want to say to you right now, but I can't because my neighborhood Goodwill is opening up in a couple minutes and I've got a couple vintage Z Team jerseys, a well worn 7-11 cycling cap, and a still working VHS copy of the 1989 Tour in its original jacket to go drop off.

It's high concept. Like Revenge of the Nerds meets Easyriders

Please excuse my absence for the last couple of days. I've been on the run from a gang- a gang of recumbent riders.

I was down near the beach the other day when I crossed paths with the pocket protector demographic's version of the Hell's Angels. Since I like to think of a gang of nerds in the same light as a gang of 3 year-olds in that if I were ever jumped by either I'm fairly confident I could fight my way out Burt Reynolds style.

Well, long story short, when I saw these guys cruising down the road, I brazenly took out my camera and started snapping away.

And why wouldn't I?

The second degree yellow belt I earned in the summer of '87 gave me more than enough skill to beat these guys into submission should things get dicey. Besides, with a wheel base longer than a Winnebago we're talking a 4 point turnaround easy.

The only problem was they'd hired a two wheeled escort to serve as rolling protection.

Oh snap! Well played recumbent gang, well played.

This last photo was snapped a split second before this gang of two and three wheeled marauders flipped a u'ey to come on back to find out just why they were interesting enough to be photographed.

I didn't have much time to weigh my options so I quickly decided it would be best it punch it and get away because I had a full agenda for the day that didn't included going to jail for disemboweling a bunch o' nerds.

The only problem was I was at the beach and as anyone who's read even a paragraph about recumbent bikes knows, "on level ground a recumbent is far superior to the common bicycle." What was I going to do? There were no hills to be found anywhere on which to drop these recumbent riders. I was gonna be toasted real quick.

So, I did the next best thing. I deftly weaved my way through traffic and let the recumbent gang deal with the horror and sheer of being eyeball to eyeball with Hummer bumpers and discover just how hard it is to split a lane while riding a sport trike.

Still, I had the their escort to deal with so I stayed on course running for the hills Iron Maiden style because I knew, if I could keep him at bay for 15 miles I'd be in the clear because as we all know a "century rider" can't pedal for more than the 15 miles between sag stops.

I'm happy to report that at exactly 15.2 miles our Trek riding protector of nerds decided to punch out and go home.

Monday Mash Up

Here's undeniable YouTube'd proof that the MASH crew went on a little mash session with his Lanceness when they descended upon Austin to celebrate their latest collabo or whatever it is they do.



What I like about this video is the fact that the Lance Armstrong factor offsets the fact that Lance was mashing with them on a fixie with whack ass non-NJS approved mustache bars while being dressed like a Republican. Had he been any other guy, I'd wager the Mash crew would circle the wagons give this yuppie a few choice words about copying their scene.

When you watch the video, pay attention to the part where Lance absolutely rails a corner while another dude had to scrub some speed with a skid. I know he's Lance and all but for the MASH crew, fixed gears are life and it's pretty amusing that even in his pre-comeback state he can simply ride away from them at will.

I was impressed that the camera guy could keep up though. Very impressive to be able to keep a camera steady and haul ass at the same time. Too bad I found out at the end of the clip that this guy was riding a scooter.

Boo.

Or as the kids say FAIL.

Douchebag of the Week: NY State Senator Jeff Klein

Senator Jeff Klein

Much like Larry Craig touching the foot of an undercover cop when he was trollin' for ass in an airport bathroom during a layover, Jeff Klein couldn't have picked a worse cyclist in all of Manhattan to call a "fucking asshole" while he was behind the wheel of his black Mercedes.

Had Senator Klein not chosen to deck out his Mercedes with license plates exclusively for members of the senate, he could have ridden off anonymously into the sunset.

Instead, he chose to mess with No Impact Man (I know. WTF, right?) who used his lone superpower of observation and realized the driver calling him hurtful names and trying to run him off the road might be a government official.

Sure enough, when No Impact Man caught up to offending senator at a stop light he was able to coax his name out of him thanks to the age old Jedi mind trick of "What's your name?"

Being Senator Klein is a Democrat and doesn't have that whole lying thing perfected yet, he willfully revealed his true identity to No Impact Man, which lead to this strongly worded open letter, which was soon followed by this posting of triumphant success.

Along the way the journalist juggernaut that is Gothamist caught wind of the story and a lively discussion soon followed.

Was the senator just feeling the sting of karma or was it a set up by No Impact Man all along?

I don't know and I don't care. I'm just happy that I get to giggle at the expense of an elected official.

Oh, and No Impact Man, I poked around your gerbil powered website and hate to say it but what I saw in just a couple minutes is more than enough to make you a strong candidate for next week's featured Douchebag. Keep up the good work and you'll join Senator Klein soon enough.

Really, No Impact Man, you've leveraged your new lifestyle (one that many folks already adhere to without the need to self promote) into a book and a movie deal?

Do you recommend I read the book before seeing the movie or could I save a couple of trees by skipping ahead to the film?

Just curious.

Wolfpack Hustle = Quentin Tarantino

Got a tip from a reader that I thought was worth sharing.

This is the intro to the skate video Fully Flared which was released last year by the Lakai shoe company.



Even though I haven't ridden a skateboard since the time Marty McFly made riding a skateboard cool back in the in the summer of '85, I'm still struggling to get my jaw off the floor after watching that rather impressive display of skating and explosions.

Now here's a trailer from the Wolfpack for their upcoming video documenting the second running of their "All City Team Race" which went down over Labor Day weekend.


Wolfpack All City Team Race 2 TEASER from Bicykiller on Vimeo.

Anything sound familiar?

Now that they've fully Borg'd messenger culture it looks like borrowing from skaters is the next stop on the Wolfpack train.

At this rate, M83's Lower Your Eyelids to Die with the Sun will be the new Battle Without Honor or Humanity. Once Quentin Tarantino lifted that song and brought it to the masses, it took less than a year for it become the title track for the ubiquitous cliche.

M83, when you're cashing those royalty checks when your song is used to promote the release Apple's next iPod, do you think you could kick a little something the Wolfpack's way? A lot of those guys are riding around the big city on bikes with no brakes and that's just not safe.

This guy probably likes Coke and Pepsi equally well.

Wearing a DeRosa jersey while riding a Pinarello is the sort of faux pas only a cyclist could commit because the only ones who notice such errors in judgment are other cyclists and we all know cyclists don't know how to beat anyone up.

However if we were in the Dirty South and our Italian loving cyclist decided to cross the streams by driving a Ford F150 plastered with Chevy stickers, someone would be strung up a flag pole faster than a meth head Waffle House cook could fry up an order of hash browns.

Here's how you can tell this lady is from England.

She wears her fanny pack on the front.

Douchebags of the week: Anyone not named Lance Armstrong riding in the 2009 Tour de France

After this week's big announcement, my first thought was how bored does Lance Armstrong have to be to decide that training for and racing in Le Tour is a better alternative to doing anything else?

Then I crunched a few numbers and ran a few equations through my trusty TI-35 and realized Lance is mounting a comeback for not just for awareness of The Cancer but mainly because his seemingly bottomless booty well has done dried up and next summer is looking like mighty slim pickins unless he wants to hang out behind the counter at Mellow Johnny's and pick up hipster chicks.

Here why this is true.

1) The Olsen twins are not the Olsen triplets or quadruplets. Once you ad Mary Kate and Ashley to your long, but distinguished list, that it. You're done. You're out. No more Olsen twins left to bang.

2) Matthew McConaughey, Lance's number 1 wingman is out of the game. In case you missed that issue of US Weekly, Wooderson knocked up a chick and decided to stick around to be a daddy. And until it becomes one with the earth Matthew's going to be too busy dealing with would be placenta snatchers to worry about chasing tail with Lance.

3) Lance already poached Kate Hudson from his buddy Luke Wilson. Humping an ex of your buddy is bad form. Humping two of your buddy's ex's is the stuff that gets a Maxim reporter stalking you as the target in a shocking expose'.

On top of that. Could next year's roster in Le Tour be any weaker?

Hmm... let's see.

Ricardo Ricco got booted.

Floyd Landis is gonna be on the new version of Health Net. Yeah, I don't think they'll be getting an invite.

Ivan Basso should be back but how strong will he be with out the juice?

Jan Ulrich could come back but strudel doesn't eat itself.

Carlos Sastre- not unless the he'll be testing rocket bikes for the Cervelo Test Team.

Jonathan Vaughters will find a way for Christian Vande Velde to crash.

Then you've got the Schleck brothers- Frank and Andy. I think the only way that's gonna happen is if Bjarne can find away to fuse them together to become Frandy Schleck.

Too bad Andy couldn't have been Frank's vanishing twin. That's about the only hope the Schleck sisters have at taking down The Boss.

Ladies and Gentlemen, your Los Angeles Triathlon Winner

Saw a lot of craziness out on the road Sunday during the LA Triathlon but like the venerable Highlander there can only be one ultimate douchebag on a bike and here is your winner.

Sweet, sweet Jeebus. What kind of high stakes bet did this guy have to lose? Sponge Bob vest(?), recumbent, already on running shoes for a speedy transition to the run.

I do have one question though. If a recumbent is such a superior machine, (and you know that this guy, like every other recumbent owner is quick to point out how 'bents were banned from Le Tour de France after it was decided they were "too fast") why does this guy need a mirror mounted up on his? If he were really tearin' up the road, why does he need to worry about what's going on behind him?

Gallery of Sweetness: Los Angeles Triathlon Edition

Yesterday Los Angeles was bisected by a ribbon of yellow tape so that the participants in the LA Triathlon could have 24.8 miles of roads all to themselves. Had LA's own Wolfpack been able to scrape together the $55 needed to do the "bike only" portion and most importantly developed the stamina required to wake up before noon, they could have had themselves a nice little "hustle." But nope, I only saw one fixed gear out on the course.

Saw some other great stuff out there but I haven't yet had the chance to get my lil' Fun Saver dropped off at the last remaining photo lab.

In the meantime here's some great action shots from last year to hold you over.

Maybe you wouldn't struggle so much if you did only one thing at a time. Get your gloves on and then start chomping on your Powerbar. Or better yet, leave the gloves at home.

I like the preparation here. Got the number for the run already on and set to go and just in the earth decides to go out of orbit and crash into the sun, she's wearing enough sunscreen to not feel the burn.

Nice "o" face. Maybe you'd go faster if you weren't dry humping your seat. And put on a damn shirt.

Here's a good rule to live by, if you can afford a TT helmet with a built-in visor, you can afford to get a spare visor that's tinted- unless of course you're more concerned with forehead protection rather than an aerodynamic advantage.

Douchebags of the week: MPLS Critical Mass

Like many folks curious to know what's going on in the world around them, I spent a huge chunk of time following the Republican National Convention coverage and must say that I'm horribly disappointed in the work of today's Anarchists.

Sure, I saw some unnecessarily brutal action at the hand of the "fascist police" but on the other hand I have to say I'm more appalled that the protesters didn't put up much of a fight. Granted, preparation and anarchy don't exactly go together like peas and carrots but having four years to prepare should be ample time to organize something decent. In all the footage I watched didn't see a single protester who saved up the money for a proper gas mask. Instead, they all took off on their first run since senior year gym class the moment the po-po broke out the tear gas and concussion grenades. Seriously, The Orphans would have done better.

At the very least I thought Critical Mass would have been a shining beacon of civil protest and so did Minneapolis' crack Fox News Team. Check this out:



And here's the only RNC Critical Mass clip I could find:



Really? That's all the MPLS Critical Mass Krew had to offer the one week when the whole world was watching?

For shame.

Even a mid-winter Critical Mass in Nova Scotia is a rowdier event.

When does a cliche' become a parody?

A too big for its rider fixed gear turned brake having single speed incorrectly locked up outside an American Apparel store. The negative rise stem and riser bar combo is always winner.

I just wonder if the bike belonged to a shopper (I did go inside but couldn't tell since everyone looked the same) or to American Apparel and is locked up outside every morning like hipster bait.

Really? Somebody bought one?

Behold, the Mogo Kickbike in the flesh.

I just wonder why it was locked up. Was it to prevent a do gooding passerby from tossing it out in front of an oncoming bus in an effort to make the world a slightly better place? Or was it that this Mogo's owner is still making his three easy payments of $79.99?

You've got the kit, the attitude, but way too much leg hair

The other day during my two wheeled commute I was passed by the fellow you see here.

I thought this occurrence was odd for two reasons: 1) Nine out 10 days I'm usually the only cyclist on this particular stretch of road. 2) When this chap squeezed by me between speeding traffic there was nary a "good morning" or even a lowly "on your left."

Nope. All I got was a whoosh of air and the momentary discomfort of someone else's handlebars being little too close for comfort- a nifty disturbance in The Force that I haven't felt since the days of being a Cat. V.

Then, about a split second later, I realized I didn't deserve any kind of salutation because the lowly plebe writing this was being passed by an honest to goodness PRO cyclist. Had to be a PRO. No doubt because really, who would buy a Health Net kit?

Instantly, I realized that I shouldn't be feeling offended but flattered that a PRO had even choose to allow me to ride on the same street as him. All it would have taken was one quick radio message and his support vehicle would have ran me off the road right quick.

Then I caught up to him and noticed an unsightly growth of leg hair that's denser than what's left of the Amazon rain forest. Seriously, it'd take a couple rounds of my uncle's backyard napalm to smooth out the situation.

And the best part is I had enough time to dig out my phone and snap a picture of this clearance rack PRO before the light turned green. If he would have had the basic etiquette required to even acknowledge the presence of another cyclist with three feet of him, he wouldn't have had his picture taken.

Instead, he's just another douchebag on a bike.