Affair? What Affair?

I fall in love with the big heavy studded tire monstrosity known as "Mutant Winter" in the Fall. I mean, I can ride over or through just about anything on it. And it has gears, 8 of 'em! It has the 2nd sexiest plastic tub in the city. It has pink brake cables. It is caked in road sludge and has rusty fender stays. It is slow-ish. It is perfect.

I also fall in love with a fixed gear commuter known simply as "Summer" each Spring. It is light and practical and fast-ish. It sports panniers of deep philosophical meaning that came from across the sea. It is my best build so far. It needs new bar tape and brake pads. It is perfect.

Once I have switched bikes with the seasons, I don't like going back. I like settling into the clothing and daily packing and riding patterns associated with each commuter bike and staying there. I also like to equip the bike with appropriate tubes and tools and just leave them on board rather than transferring stuff from one bike to another. I've been holding off on switching to "Summer" because there's a chance snow will fly again, but I can't take riding "Mutant Winter" in such fine weather any longer. Plus, MW's bottom bracket has passed well beyond creaking; it sounds like there are broken marbles in it. The whole bike needs a complete tear-down. Thus I have resolved to ride Summer through anything nasty that comes up between now and hot weather.

Anyway, I love them both, but at different times. If they were women, it would be like having two wives I totally adored and lived with exclusively depending on the season; a more solidly built one for winter and a lighter, more athletic one for summer. Both would be practical life-partner types who selflessly support me in getting through my day-to-day existence.

Original artwork: Fernando Botero - Woman With Pearls

Original artwork: Domenico Ghirlandaio - Portrait of a Woman

The thing is, I want more. Don't get me wrong, riding for practical reasons through the work week brings me joy every time I do it, but I'm ready for some weekend fun. As some of you may know, I've got a Trek 520 frame I've been meaning to do something with. Unfortunately, there has been little cash and even less time available to apply to my project, and I have not progressed beyond having a frame and wheels. Just the same, my heart (if not my shed) definitely has room for a third bike. This time, the kind of woman she would be changes entirely, since the bike isn't about day-to-day practicality, but rather about a partner for weekend adventures:

Original artwork: Emily Balivet - The Muse of Music

Now you can correct me of course, but I'm guessing that "Mutant Winter" and "Summer" might have a problem with my built-for-weekend-fun-bike-woman friend that I will name "Highway":

Yep, it sure would be awful, if it weren't for this staggeringly wonderful fact: They are all bikes. They don't care. In fact, they are not capable of caring, because they are just things. Holy man, do I love bikes. I love them most for what they are, but it would seem that I also love them for what they are not.

Be True.

R A N T W I C K

I'm Going Off the Air

Just for now. Work is insane. Like work work work work sleep work work work work nap work... I promise to come back better than ever (yeah, that'll be tough) as soon as I can get my ducks in a row again. They're just so unruly, like untamed animals or something. And the quacking! Oh, the quacking (shiver)...

While I'm herding ducks, pay attention to the plight of Reed Bates in Texas. Click my donate button, or visit http://let-him-ride.com , or do both!

We are entering a very exciting season. Enjoy Your Bike!

R A N T W I C K

Riding Around In My Underpants, I Honk Like a Goose

OK, here goes... pictured below is the back of my office door with my cycling clothes hanging on it.I wear the shorts underneath the pants. On days when it is below freezing, I wear them under my heavier, cold weather pants:

One day several months ago, my winter cycling pants were swallowed by a renegade laundry mound at home. I couldn't find them and was running late for work. They are the only cycling pants I own. It was way too cold for just shorts. In desperation, I put on the only thing I could find:

Now, I can hear you saying, "Rantwick, what the hell is wrong with you? What's wrong with a regular pair of pants?" You are absolutely right in that I could have worn normal pants. I have come to really dislike wearing normal clothes on the bike, so much so that wearing normal pants didn't even occur to me at the time. As it turns out, that was a good thing. Sort of.

On days that it is just above freezing, my heavier pants are too hot. I don't own any regular, warm weather cycling tights. These long undies keep my legs just warm enough, while breathing really well. If it is cold enough to wear them it is also cold enough to wear my jacket, and my jacket covers both the waistband and the "fly", so nobody knows (until now). They fit just like any pair of stretchy athletic tights. So, call me a freak (and I know you will), I have continued to wear them when the temperature is between 0 and 10 C or so. Anything above that and I break out the brightie whities (legs with cycling shorts, I mean. I'm not that freaky just yet).

Sharing this kind of embarrassing information is a bizarre character trait of mine. It is not limited to this blog stuff either. If I have something I'm ashamed of or something I fear will make me look bad or invite teasing or criticism from others, I end up telling people all about it. I think it is a defense mechanism. It is much easier to poke fun at something another person has attempted to keep secret as opposed to something they just up and told you. It kind of takes the fun out of it. This is cool with Mrs. Rantwick, because although it means that I frequently embarrass her by association, it also means I am incapable of keeping secrets from her. If I decide to keep something secret from her, it is a sure thing that making that very decision will have me telling her about it within 24 hours.

So anyway, I was riding to work in my underpants this morning and found myself behind a car that was failing to get going when presented with an advanced green. So I honked. I have no horn or bell on my bike. I prefer to use my voice when I need attention and it works well when you're willing to really speak up or even yell. I've never honked before though, and it turns out that I am more Canadian than I ever guessed...

So there you have it for this Monday. I wish I could promise something normal or interesting for next time, but I honestly don't know what's gonna come next.

Helpless in the face of my own freakishness, I remain:

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K