Meddle Race

Well it seems as though fellow NY rider Senor BSNYC continues to set the blogdome/blogosphere discourse on riding the fixed gears and while in the past I have tried to tread different ground than my more esteemed and well read colleague (if that's a fair statement), yesterday's post on the Metal Race stirred up all sorts varied sentiments, both in myself and others. Having spent the time to sort through the comments to the post its seems that like a similar dredging of the east river might turn up some gems, it also turned up a ton of junk. However after sorting all that out, there remain a few salient points that deserve a bit more attention. The first of these is the state of alleycatting and the heavy derision it seems to fall under from various fronts. The first bit of criticism that gets lobbed at the alleycat is that it is so far denuded from its original purpose that it is starting to resemble the nth copy of Michael Keaton in Multiplicity. This may be true, certainly when the racing first began it was much closer to the courier community and had fewer interlopers and imitators than it does now. The original purpose of trying to find the best courier in a controlled environment seems to have faded into "racing" from point to point in an effort to exert semi-maximal effort, often while drinking and performing nonmessenger related activities. Well that's fine. If we'll still treat the alleycat as a truly competitive event, is it really that much differant than what happens to any form of competition as it's base grows and talent/skill/fitness start to stratify? Is the differance between a CMWC caliber of race any further distanced from a "Metal Race" than a Central Park Cat 5 race is from one the Classics? I would argue no. Does that make the participants in either ride ripe for ridicule? Clearly, if the event or riders seem to be losing perspective of where exactly it all fits together, then, yeah, sure rip on them but is that really what is happening here? Further to say that a fixed gear rider who alleycats doesn't know the meaning of what it is to ride through the pain is also disingenuine. If The Rider taught me anything, its that no one is really capable of suffering to the extant that we believe ourself to be capable of and for people that hang their hat on that fact, it will be ever thus.
I could go on but this is getting to the point of treatise on alleycatting and only furthering the sort of discourse that I hate, mainly the us v. them; black v. white. All that I'm really trying to say is that it would do the whole "community" (such that it is) to look for a little more "grey". Is an event like the "Metal Race" ripe for satire, of course. Is it approriate to then use that satire to further personal attacks on the culture of alleycatting, of course not. Ultimately mixing a little biking, with a little boozing, and a touch of face paint never really hurt any one.

Where were we...

Well no where, really, but that doesn't mean we can't end up somewhere. Also by we I mean me but who's counting. I didn't really know what to make this post about but then something happened in my NYC riding life that called for some sort of transmission to whomever may be reading this blog. What was that something you may ask? It was a seminal moment for bikers in the city that marks the transition from summer to fall, a cycling solstice of sorts. This morning I was able to get my commute over with without breaking a serious sweat. I don't mean that I pulled up to the trusty bike rack, locked up, and wiped my brow only to find nothing to wipe, oh no there was still plenty of that salty sweaty goodness but instead after dabbing my brow a few times I was good to go, done with the perspiration. Usually in the summer I am good for a solid 45 minutes of that quasi-embarrassing post-ride routine of continually removing those glistening beads of moisture from my exposed forehead, partly because I sweat a ton (I guess that's just my burden to bear) but more importantly, because riding in the city in the summertime is a fucking disaster. Sure Prospect Park in the early AM has its moments but really at that hour, if I'm up, I'm making a bee line for the bed not the pace line. In terms of practical biking (e.g transportation) riding in the summer is pretty much bad news and I'm glad that we might be moving past that for a few months (I'm looking in your direction Indian Summer, please remain seated).
I had thought this post was going to be a recap of all the things that I learned whilst riding through these dog days in particular and perhaps that post is still on its way (probably will be) but mostly I just want to say how happy I am for summer to be winding down, for the prospect of some cool rides, and for those beautiful morning when you get outside, swing a leg over your bars, and take that first crisp, cold breath of air and think to yourself, "man I'm overdressed, I am going to be sweating like a pig when I get to where I'm going."