Big G sent me an email the other night. He needed to tell me he had ordered himself a Specialized Roubaix road bike.
After all we've been through, dealing with the mysterious creaks, cracks and pops of carbon frames, and all the headaches of brifters and the Chain of the Month Club, Big G signed himself up for all of it. At what point did he cease to mean it when he said, "I'm so glad I don't own one of these?"
With so many more elegant ways to achieve a light bike that would also be simple and durable over the long haul, he chose to buy off the rack and shackle himself to this year's "state of the art." Hell, it's not even this year. It's more like six months at best.
The bike arrived today. The box looked like it had been drop-kicked all the way from Taiwan, but the bike appears unblemished. Unblemished except by the details of its own design, that is. So it's a matter of opinion. Big G won't be in until Friday. The bike will await him, in its exploded box. I got him something with which to toast his assimilation into the cult of the modern:
Ah well. Too late! He's gone to the dark side. I can only help him return if he wants to be helped. Meanwhile I get to bust his balls without mercy. Got a problem there big guy? Waaaa ha ha ha ha!
I know I should be more gung-ho about the bike industry's excrescences. They're supposed to be the latest and greatest, and Enhance your Cycling Experience. Thing is, I was enjoying my cycling experiences a ton back in the 1980s, when all I wanted was enough income to buy more time to spend riding the stuff I already owned. I've made a few changes where I saw real improvements, but the rest of it is expensive horseshit. That being said, riding a bike is still great. Find someone who can help you sift through the horseshit. Even if you get stuck with some ultra-modern (temporarily) crap, the activity itself is still worthwhile. We can get you onto better stuff if you decide you want it. Or we can keep feeding you the industry's latest dump. It's all good. It still beats driving.