City-fied

Please explain to me.

It's true, i've moved to the bright lights, big city.

Much of the decision was propelled just as much by the increase in rent at my redwood city residence, as it was by my new team.

I love the cycling culture in SF. I love that I see people who actually live utilitarian-style by bike. Panniers for shopping runs and internal hubs for those cable-car famous hills.

But the one thing I've come to really let get under my skin: fixies. The logic confounds me. CONFOUNDS. I can't say it enough. Confounds.

Last week, I was riding down the panhandle on my way home. A guy rolls past me. Beautiful purple bike. Teeny weeny stupidly idiotically small handle bars. I mean, if they're that small, why even bother? Just use your intelligence to control the bike by the stem. He certainly looked like he was trying, the way he wib-wobbled all over the place. And surprise, surprise, no helmet. But man, did he think he was cool!

A singlespeed's simplicity, even in the city of seven hills, I get. A fixie? A fashion fad of fools. And all those other f-words they cause me to utter. Leave the toe clips for the bonafide tracksters. As in, you actually make it all the way down to Hellyer. And race. The. Track.

I'm all about fixating this one on my CX bike, which is perfectly practical as my commuter: