Fixed Gear Corruption

Yes, it's true, I'm actually posting something. And yes, it's true, fixed gear bicycles have corrupted me.
Ask anyone, I used to be the epitome of bicycle manners. I obeyed the traffic laws better than most drivers. I always waited for lights, kept to my lane, signaled and made legal turns. I didn't mind stopping, putting a foot down, scanning the car next to me for interesting occurrences.
Then one day I'm waiting, realizing my trackstand skills are not up to par, and run the red through an empty intersection. I found myself going the wrong way in traffic, cutting corners and running more lights, riding through pedestrian precincts...
I had basically become the rider I had always shaken my head at, cursed for making it bad for all of us.
And I remembered how much fun it was to take the street for my own purposes. Subversive purposes.

I'm still a generally respectful rider. More often than not I'll follow the spirit, if not the letter, of the law. But sometimes I have to follow the path less traveled. Against the arrows.

and for those still counting... over 15 months.

La Gazza Ladra

So I finally got what I consider to be decent shots of LGL. And she was actually clean (ish).

Here's one of a little number that Mellow Velo just put together... one sexy old Peugot, kids.

Lash

Part of me wants to flay the skin off the "cyclists" that only acknowledge their own, moreso the ones in cars, driving to their trail, or starting point.
Today, I rolled down the hill, in search of music, and malted adult beverages. The Cowgirl was celebrating 15 years with a dozen local bands, and I had a ticket to Cowboy Junkies at the Lensic. Memories of the Really Posh Guys almost crushed me, but that's another story.
As I rolled down said hill, a car with a couple bikes came up. I waved. I was ignored.
Perhaps because they were transporting mountain bikes, and I was riding La Gazza Ladra, perhaps they didn't notice me in the hundred yard visibility. Perhaps they were self-absorbed pricks who felt adding $3,000 of wind resistance to their car was cool.
It really doesn't matter after all... whatever rant I built on the way to town was washed away by the days events.
And perhaps that is the lesson. To me, to the pricks, to the people who make music for us.

And I signed a marriage certificate Saturday. No, it wasn't mine.
And I can't remember how many days it's been since I had a cigarette. More than five months...

La Gazza Ladra

A few images of the latest project, the continued obsession...











So very fun to ride, a great way to get around Santa Fé.
One of these days I'll do a parts list here.