Singlespeeds and Solitude

Autumn is in the air. The season is changing in earnest. The green scuzz has vanished from the surface of the lake, which is now glassy and reflects the ferliage that is juuust on the verge of exploding like giant popcorn kernels into the brilliant hues of fall:

As ever, I am thankful that I live in a place where I can easily vanish into a sun-dappled…well, “wonderland” is too strong a word, but it’s an actual forest with actual trails, and it’s right out my back door:

Strictly speaking, you are not supposed to ride here, but strictly speaking you’re not supposed to do a lotta stuff, and here and there you’ll find little kicker ramps which I avoid because I’m a suspension-free “woosie:”

Though rest assured I am MAN enough to cross the Fetid River Of Sludge:

I saw the Suspension-Free Woosies open for Fetid River Of Sludge at the old Ritz in 1986, it was a fantastic show.

There are other wonders in these woods as well, such as the site where a meteor struck the earth in 1896:

Just kidding:

At lease I think I’m kidding–I have no idea what caused that crater-like depression so maybe it was something cosmic after all.

Anyway, mentioning singlespeed mountain bikes yesterday got me in the mood to ride one. While this bike is virtually un-photographable due to its monochromatic colourwhey…

…it is in fact an Engin, and I can’t praise it highly enough, probably because I lack not only the metaphors but the compulsion to wantonly mix them:

That site is to writing as this site is to photography.

Of course, we’re all different, and that’s why the world is so rich and vibrant, like the autumn leaves. Some have a way with words, others are more visually inclined. Some people see an abandoned Citi Bike on the Brooklyn Bridge and alert the media:

While some of us see the exact same bike at almost the exact same time and figure, “Fuck it, that’s their problem:”

All of this is a roundabout way of saying some people are assholes, and if you’re not sure who I mean, I’m referring to Jörs Trüli.

What an asshole. No wonder I always ride alone.

That’s the Colnago Bititan, by the way:

Every time I see a bike from Classic Cycle that I’ve since returned I get nostalgic for it. But at least it won’t be long before I get some more of that leaf action.

Finally, speaking of people who report abandoned Citi Bikes, this was a bit of a letdown:

Annoying, yes. Stupid, sure. Typical NYC DOT half-assery, absolutely. But terror?

I dunno about that.

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