So the Tan Tenovo Enterprises Spirit Of Gravel Contest In Association With Dumonde Velocipedal Lubricatory Fluids is officially closed, and the winner is…
…I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet. Look, what do you want from me? I’ve got a lot of entries to go through, such as this one:
Nine people will get that one.
Also, choosing a winner is a time-intensive process, because my mind is regularly blown, then I have to pick up all the pieces and put it back together, only for it to be blown apart again:
Snob – This just reveled itself to me – if you run an anagram of “The Spirit of Gravel”, you gain some scary insights. Anagrams have long been thought to hold secret meanings. For millennia, there was a historical and literary belief that rearranging letters of a phrase or name can reveal hidden, often profound truths. Historically, this practice was seen as a way to divine hidden secrets, with roots in ancient Greece, Rome, and Kabbalistic cultures. Surely you will recall that “Tom Marvolo Riddle” transformed into “I am Lord Voldemort” in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Other examples include “Quid est veritas?” (What is truth?) transforming into “Est vir qui adest” (It is the man before you), or “Clint Eastwood” into “Old West Action”. Coincidence? I think not.
So consider that “The Spirit of Gravel” contains the following hidden anagrammed messages:
“Gravel Profit Heist”
“Gathers Evil Profit”
“First-Rate Hive Glop”
“Evil Sport Thief Rag”, and
“Evil Gearshift Port”
Egad, Something wicked this way comes! An Accident? Hardly! There also may be some otherworldly plot involving the Elves – hence “Great Elvish Profit” – The Spirit of Gravel indeed! Sneaky pointy eared forest folk cashing in.
Of course, the phrase also contains other more benign messages such as “Private golfer shit”, “Flat Tire Shrove Pig”, “Fetal Hipster Vigor” and “Gestapo River Filth”, but that’s no reason to ignore the obvious. Gravel is a plot – please be careful and burn this message after reading.
It’s like the Spirit of Gravel is God, my head is the universe, and it’s the Big Bang and the Big Crunch over…and over…and over…and over…
By the way, I saw Gestapo River Filth open for Nausea at the Pyramid Club in 1988, what a great show.
Plus, when you’re dealing with the Spirit of Gravel, it’s not just about the profundity. It’s also about the irony:
Thanks to gravel, I think we may need a new word for this potent admixture. Profirony, perhaps? Hmmm, maybe too close to Proofide:
Oh, and if you’re wondering what admixture means, it just means mixture:
So basically a colorway of substances.
I’d like to say I’ve made a tremendous amount of progress when it comes to articulating the Spirit of Gravel, but as usual I’m way off the back, for the arbiters of gravel chic have long since moved onto the Spirit of Steel:
Wait, I’m sorry, what? Shimmying is good now? I’m old enough to remember when people would pen long letters to Lennard Zinn asking how to get rid of it, and he’d recommend teabagging the top tube to break the oscillation cycle.*
Also, “planing?”
I thought this was planing:
Even though this is really planing:
I guess when it comes to bikes, planing is whatever you want it to be, sort of like the Spirit of Steel, or the Spirit of Gravel for that matter; just a passive nothingness upon which everyone else can project whatever line of bullshit they happen to be spouting at the moment, like Chauncey Gardiner in the movie “Being There:”
[Look, he’s planing!]
And yes, it’s been cold enough here to walk on water lately, since much of it has taken solid form:
Idiotically I’ve still ventured out on the bicycle instead of seeking the Spirit of Gravel virtually as above, though to be honest I’ve mostly regretted doing so. Here’s me riding around scavenging for hills like a squirrel in a Dumpster in a desperate attempt to maintain my core temperature:
I was only using a bike computer because I wanted to stay aware of the time and when it’s that cold I’m wearing too many layers to get to my watch or my phone. Also, since receiving an Elemnt Bolt (or “ELEMNT BOLT”) for review purposes at least six (6) years ago now, this was the first time I noticed that it actually records the temperature. Pretty nifty.
Oh, here’s my ELEMNT BOLT review, which is at least six (6) years overdue:
Pretty nifty! Except it stopped displaying text notifications like five years ago and I’ve never been able to get that feature to work again.
But yes, it’s cold out there, everything’s dead, and and the world is a bleached-out hellscape in which everything that isn’t covered with snow is covered with road salt dust. My eyes crave color, my skin craves the sun’s golden kiss, and my ears crave the dry crunching sound of Very Small Rocks instead of the crunching sound of ice melt. By the way, what do we think about this flaccid rear windshield wiper? Do we think it’s broken and that the driver can’t be bothered? Or is it yet another way to foil the traffic cameras?
My money’s on the latter.
Still, to everything there is a season, and at least the diminished riding time has given me the opportunity to see to some things I’ve been putting off. For example, I’ve officially packed up both the Y-Ferl and the AMP-erino and sent them back to Classic Cycle. Unfortunately, this creates more room for more bikes, and I sublimate my desire to be out riding into scrounging around on popular online auction sites for bargains like a squirrel in a Dumpster (wait I already used that), and trying not to buy stuff like this:
Please note I have no relation to the seller, nor have I actually purchased this. However, the reason this bicycle frame is noteworthy is that at first glance it appears to be just another generic early 21st century aluminum frame with a gratuitous crabon wishbone shoved up its ass. Also, the color has been scientifically engineered to be as boring as possible. However, I’m fairly certain this frame is in fact designed for medium-reach brakes, perhaps the most tragically overlooked of all cycling components:
A medium reach brake can easily take both a 28m tire and a fender, and had road racing bicycles defaulted to these instead of to short-reach calipers then this whole Dick Break Debacle** might have been averted. Anyway, the reason this particular frame caught my attention was that this is a good time of year to tinker and I’m sure we would all agree that I should take all the parts off the aesthetically confused and unfortunate Faggin, move them over to that Redline, put some fenders on it, and curate myself a lean, mean wet-weather road bike:
I mean I’m not going to, but I should. Plus, I do have a soft spot for Redlines–not only because I coveted the BMX bikes in my youth, but because I had one in my cyclocrossing days, and it eventually became my Designated Fender Bike:
In fact in many ways it was the Homer’s spiritual forbear:
The real lesson here is that thanks to dick breaks and remote control shifting there are a lot of low-budget opportunities out there if you know what you’re looking for.
*[Disclaimer: Lennard Zinn has never advised this. Furthermore, teabagging your own top tube while riding is extremely dangerous. If you must do this, come to a complete stop and make sure you’re at least 100 yards from a school or place of worship.]
**[I saw Dick Break Debacle at the Right Track Inn in 1987, what a great show.]