If you’re perambulating along the roads and trails north of the city, the last thing you expect to encounter is a Platypus:
But encounter one you will–at least if I’m on the prowl:
The North American Platypus is easily identified by its low-slung top tube and its low-normal derailleur:
By the way, all photographic evidence of my recent flub have now been memory-holed from the Outside story:
We have always been at war with Eurasia, and my derailleur has always been installed properly.
By the way, if you’re wondering how it ran smoothly enough for me not to notice it when the chain wasn’t routed properly, I can only speculate that it must be the superior viscosity and tenacity of Dumonde chain lube:
That’s how you turn a screw-up into a marketing opportunity.
Anyway, one reason I’m enjoying the Platypus with the low-normal derailleur is that it means the shift lever is easy to reach when I’m using the lower gears. In fact, while I do have an opposable thumb, I don’t even need to employ it and can just sort of gently palm it like a cat pushing a small object off a table instead:
Or, sometimes when I’m climbing and I want to upshift I can kind of grab it and pull like I’m an engineer driving a choo-choo:
And yes, I doo gleefully cry out “Choo-choo!!!” when I’m doing it, but I look around and make sure nobody’s listening first.
In fact, I’m enjoying the Platypus so much these days I’ve even been thinking about bringing it with me on vacation this year:
The Roadini is still the front-runner by a comfortable margin but you never know.
Meanwhile, I was perusing the Rivendell newsletter recently, and not only did a reader comment from this very blog make it on there, but apparently someone’s sending scam emails from “Grant Petersen:”
This is alarming, but fortunately it’s easy to distinguish between fake emails and real ones, even for rubes like me who can’t install a derailleur. I know because I receive actual emails from Grant Petersen all the time. Here’s one of them:
Dear Biek Snob,
Thank you for your email regarding your most recent order. The e-assisted carbon fiber bicycle we have sent to you via FedEx is being held by US customs. Please make payment via bitcoin using the link below:
Sincearly,
Graham Peterman
President and Chief Diversity Officer
Riverdale Bicycle Works
Now that’s the genuine article. I’ve uploaded my complete personal details, a scan of my passport, and my cryptocurrency wallet address containing the 30 or 40 bitcoin I bought in 2011 as a lark. I can’t wait!
Oh, and don’t worry about the bitcoin. I haven’t checked the prices lately but as an avid Paul Krugman reader I assume it’s all worthless by now:
At least once a month I think about Paul Krugman’s barber’s brother-in-law and how rich he must be today because he didn’t listen to Paul Krugman. I wonder if he invites Krugman out to his Hamptons house for barbecues to thank him.
Speaking of the OM-1, here’s the prototype that won’t make it into production (at least for now) because they’d have to sell it for like one (1) bitcoin:
I still feel like I don’t know nothing about nothing, even where bicycles are concerned, but I will say that in the last couple years or so I’ve learned a lot more about derailleurs. Part of that is because Rivendell have been keeping me in the loop regarding the development of the OM-1, but there was also the time Classic Cycle sent me a whole box of them to try out:
What I came to realize is that, while obviously there are important differences in capacity (not to mention the mostly superficial differences in appearance and weight), there isn’t much you can actually feel while riding (says the guy who couldn’t even tell his chain wasn’t routed properly through his derailleur)–though I did declare a winner anyway:
That silver Athena may be the last time anyone actually designed a nice-looking derailleur…until now:
Of course with regard to that big box of derailleurs it’s important to note those were all high-normal derailleurs. Obviously you totally notice the difference between a high-normal derailleur and a low normal derailleur, though I can’t say whether or not you’d notice the difference between two high-normal derailleurs when shifting them:
I am tempted to put the Silver derailleur on the Roadini for purely aesthetic reasons though, as it is would probably look better than the blocky XTR derailleur with its industrial-looking cable pulley. However, I’ve spent so much time getting everything on the Roadini to work just so that I’ve forbidden myself from tampering with it anymore:
Also, in case you’re wondering, an XTR Rapid Rise derailleur like the one above paired with a set of Campagnolo 10-speed Ergo shifters and a Shimano 8-speed cassette is currently the most hipster setup you could possibly have on your bicycle. It’s like answering your tiny cellphone was in the ’90s:
Yes, people are insufferable about their Shimagnolo setups–almost as insufferable as automotive journalists who have purchased gravel bikes:
I ask myself this same question every day:
I also ask myself why people have to say “price point” when they simply mean price, but I guess it depends on the use case do you see what I did there:
My specific gravel bike comes from Orbea, a worker co-op out in Spain. It’s not the lightest for its price point, but a sale online made it the cheapest way to get drop bars, hydraulic brakes, and a high-quality groupset (the fancy cyclist word for a drivetrain). Even Facebook Marketplace couldn’t get me a better price, and nothing on Marketplace had a front fork that looked like it was covered in sprinkles.
If you’re wondering why most bikes are both ugly and identical it’s probably because everyone shops with the same meaningless checklist:
- Drop bars✔
- Hydraulic brakes✔
- High-quality groupset✔
You know how it goes: “This bike’s gotta be better than that bike, it has a GRX derailleur and hydraulic brakes.”
By no means am I trying to insult the writer, and of course I hope she continues to enjoy her new bicycle. It’s just that it takes you years and years to unlearn all the bike marketing that tells you this is the way to shop, and once you do it’s really annoying to see how pervasive it is. But I’m relatively certain she’ll unlearn it soon, because even though she’s an automotive journalist she’s apparently come to hate cars:
When I started at Jalopnik, I owned a 2014 Scion FR-S. That gave way to my incredibly short-lived track Miata, which then disappeared in favor of a series of motorcycles. Now, finally, the Orbea fills the hole left by my old mountain bike — nearly every vehicle smaller than the last. This isn’t an accident, but I think a natural consequence of writing about cars for years. Constant exposure to the news means constant exposure to the ills of infrastructure built around private vehicle ownership, and eventually you just want to opt out entirely.
A self-hating automotive journalist? What’s next? Cyclist journalists embracing bikes with motors?!?
Oh, wait:
I ride mountain bikes because it is the most enjoyable thing I can do, and I also relish the challenge and fitness that riding trails provides. And right now—and some may find this ironic, but I am currently lighter and in better shape than I’ve been in years—there is no bike I look forward to escaping on to the trails with than the Levo 4.
2025, what a time to be alive…