The one-upmanship is worrisome with two UCI level events on the horizon, (The Cincinnati UCI3 and the
USGP in Louisville.) A disturbing trend is emerging on the
cyclocross circuit as evident in this weekend’s OVCX Storm the Greens race in
Louisville. Every week riders are being
forced to make harder and harder choices.
A few weekends ago at a muddy race in Indiana it started with the
traditional dollar bill hand up, which turned into an internet video
sensation (see below). A week or so later, the
unimaginable happened. With the threat
of their skinny jeans being revoked, I actually saw hipsters break their 11th
commandment and give away cans of PBR at the John Bryan Classic in Yellow
Springs, OH. Yesterday, fine salted cure
meats became the hand-up of choice, ala Dino's Gorilla Grill’s Famous Bacon. What’s next?
Suddenly a Smart Car hand-up doesn’t sound so ridiculous.
PBR on a Platter
I fear the worst is yet to come. Friday’s UCI race at Devou Park outside of
downtown Cincinnati marks the first of 5 UCI events in the Ohio River
Region. The stakes are higher, and no
doubt one crispy piece of bacon, one delicately placed dollar, or an ice cold
can of Milwaukee’s favorite will not offer enough reward to risk a pro career. In a local race, a rider may risk getting
tripped up with a one handed bike carry on the barriers to snag a dollar. I snagged some Mardi Gras beads and a dollar
yesterday on Rachel’s drop. Of course I
was far out of the top 20 payout.
However, at a high level event, what will it take? Let’s go to the crooked chart of Hand-Up Incentive versus Risk:
Hence, my fear. What
kind of hand up will it take to get someone contesting a deep UCI payout to
grab the prize? The taste, novelty and
value of hand-ups must increase for top level events. There is obviously no food tastier than
bacon. Or is there? A cupcake perhaps. You may as well leave your dollars in your
pocket and instead offer up that Visa or Best Buy gift card. Even then you’d have to get creative and make
that gift card a lovely garnish on a piece of cheese cake, maybe offer a vegan
option for Molly Cameron.
Prerequisites for good hand ups:
Lightweight. Item should not impede the rider past the point
of inception.
Grabability. Items
must initially fit into one hand.
Stowability. Item
must be easily stashed under shorts, around the neck, between the
boobs, or ingested.
Placement. Item must
be small enough to be placed as not to affect race outcome or impede others.
Beads and a Buck for a Brotha!
Items not recommended: bowling balls, puppies, hot coffee, oatmeal, spaghetti, a dozen long
stem roses, frozen turkeys, coffee table books, toasters or other small
appliances, and children over 20lbs.
That leaves us with high value gift cards for I-Tunes and
Best Buy, six packs of microbrew, Groupons to the Gap, brand name backpacks (a
nice Dakine perhaps), CDs/DVDs, easily pawnable gold rings, I Phone 3’s, Pearl
Izumi arm warmers, shots of top shelf liquor, gourmet meats such as prosciutto,
delicacies like finger caprese salad, designer jeans, boutique chocolates,
Marriot rewards points, and ultimately plane tickets to Belgium.
The first week in June is when my farmer tan reaches its prime, when the contrast between my wedding dress white shoulders and Starbucks light roast brown arms causes non-cyclists to point and laugh.The Best Bike Blog Ever today hereby rolls up its short-pants to reveal the border between Pasteville and Tantown and proudly proclaims June 9th Farmer Tan Day.Today’s the day to stop cowering in a fetal position on the sofa afraid to go out in public, and show off your well earned stripes.
In my early cycling days, I used to be embarrassed about the farmer tan, going so far as to wear a surfer shirt at the pool on vacations.Nowadays, maybe because my youthful quest to look buff has been overshadowed by a middle aged mission to race bicycles, not so much.Instead I revel in the achievement of cycling enough hours to make my arm freckles look like potting soil scattered across Moab slick rock.
However before you go around shocking your coworkers, please note that today is Farmer Tan Day and not freak hand tan day.Unless you’ve somehow been able to cover you entire body in cool polka dots to match the ones the glove hole made on your hands, it’s nearly impossible to rock a freak hand tan.Please, put your hands in your pockets or draw a smiley face on your tan hand freak dot till you can go for a ride sans gloves.The Best Bike Blog Ever has no appreciation for that horrific malady.Mercy will only be bestowed upon those who braved a log hot ride on a sun filled sweat soaked muggy day or a ride where gloves were an absolute necessity.
That said; rejoice in your spectacular stripes that no amount of SPF can strip. Grab yourself a Farmer Tan Red Ale and celebrate the sight of your righteous rice-white skin shorts.You earned it.Happy Farmer Tan Day.Now put on a freaking’ shirt for Pete’s sake!Farmer Tan Day is a holiday best celebrated alone.
As cyclists it's our mission in life to own every type of bicycle there is. I have a start. Carbon, custom steel, Ti, cyclocross, 29er, 26er, beach/grocery cruiser, vintage Schwinn, full boinger, hardtail, at one time even a footpegged bmx bike graced my garage. Headed into the North American Handmade Bicycle Show (NAHBS) in Indianapolis, I didn't know what I'd be interested in or, better yet what I'd like to take home if my Jimi wallet was stuffed with my share of cycling industry bailout money.
Like an old lady in the produce department at Kroger when the clerk turns his back, I found myself bouncing from booth to booth, taking a nibble of this and a taste of that. I marveled at the intricate pattern of leaves etched in Ti. I listened to a builder wonder aloud at how his all copper bike would look in coming years as he passed his work of art into the hands of the master of all painters-oxidation. As a sewing machine buzzed through a row of stitches, I stuffed my melon into a freshly custom hand made while-you-wait cycling cap. I saw a 29er dwarfed by a 36er, around the corner a bike with tires wider than those on a Yaris, and in the middle of the hall stood the immortal Chris King in the flesh.
I developed temporary ADD, too much too take in, too much to touch, too many times I said, "oh my god, check this out." Focus. Focus. Focus. I looked for a diversion. Then I saw it. I could vote for the cycling equivalent of the NAHBS's peoples choice award. I snatched up a ballot, and thought of my criteria.
It was simple really. I set out to find a bike that I could call my own AND that no one else had ever seen before. Suddenly I was set free. No need to fondle a another carbon road bike, custom 29er or a sub-16 pound steel cyclocross bike. No offense to the artisans in the house, I set out to please myself, so to speak. I passed the ballyhooed bamboo bikes with ease, gave a nod of praise to legendary Richard Sachs, and whisked by the stationwagonesque utility bikes.
And, there it stood, my double drive-trained unicorn from Broakland Bicycles. Blue. Simple. Unique. I wrote number #246 on my ballot and dropped it in the box.
