I realize I started the week off on something of a negative note, what with the bum fights and the malaise and all, but I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m planning to pull a Jonathan Maus anytime soon. Sure, in my weaker moments it’s a tempting thought, but the simple fact is I don’t have that luxury, because the work I do here is far too important. And what is that work?
Why, I’m the Classic Cycle Old Crap Test Pilot, goddamn it!
In an age when all you read about is the latest plastic very-small-rocks bike, or maybe some boutique bicycle show full of boutique very-small-rocks bikes with overwrought paint jobs, it is more important than ever that I keep riding and writing about the velocipedes of yesteryear, and were I to abandon my post now Paul would surely have me court-martialed and shot for cowardice and dereliction of duty.
In fact, I returned home yesterday only to find a bike box from Bainbridge Island waiting for me. After standing at attention, saluting, and singing our national anthem, I opened it and found this bag containing an item wrapped in newspaper:
What could it be? A “Sicilian message,” perhaps?
Trepidatiously I opened it and, well, it kinda was:
“Lower negative spring chamber?!?” What the hell was he talking about? How can a spring be negative?
I dug deeper into the box, tore away more newspaper, and found something called a “GT:”
It had teeny, tiny wheels:
An insane number of chainrings:
And from what I could tell, one applied retarding force via some sort of cable-actuated tongs or pincers:
Perhaps Paul had wrapped it in an obsolete medium in order to underscore how wildly primitive it all was:
Also, I found it ironic that this bike from far away Washington was wrapped in The New York Times and was advertising the orchid show right down the street from me. By the way, thanks to bicycle infrastructure improvements over the past few years, I can now ride from my home to the New York Botanical Garden more or less entirely on bike paths and separated bike lanes, which comes in quite handy for family outings. Plus, Bronx residents don’t even have to pay admission!
I mean I guess I’d still have to pay admission if I wanted to see the actual orchid show, since the free admission is just for the garden grounds, but orchids schmorchids.
Anyway, I don’t take a Sicilian message lightly, and so I assembled the bike immediately:
What you’re looking at is a 1999 GT XCR 1000, and quite a clean specimen too. Naturally there’s suspension front…
…and rear:
And it’s 100% AMERICAN MADE:
Sorry if that triggers you:
Yes, this is a bike from back when we still made stuff, like the I-Drive with FDS™ (Front Derailleur Stump):
Okay, I’m pretty sure that’s not called an FDS, but it is a testament to a time when we not only still used front derailleurs, but even went so far as to incorporate structures that served no other purpose but to anchor them.
Sorry, my glasses are fogging up.
And now it is recumbent upon me to pilot this contraption into the suburban wilderness. Rest assured I shall report back, unless I am felled by either bike path drunkards or turn-of-the-century mountain bike technology, in which case I humbly request burial at sea. Until then,
I remain,
Yours and so forth,
The Classic Cycle Old Crap Test Pilot
