Greetings---
We get a lot of big city folk (Chicagoans) up here in the Kettle Moraines of Southern Wisconsin. Every day I'm apt to see hoards of riders in the wee town of Palmyra, riding the wonderfully undulating back roads.
In any event, yesterday was a particularly poignant example of the great disservice done by the weight weenies to most general recreational riders. Coming down flat Main Street in Palmyra was a substantial gal, I would say tipping the scales at 250lbs, riding a Trek Madone carbon frame, hunched over much farther than her body would reasonably allow, turning herself into a giant sweaty ball of aching misery. What she was doing was nothing akin to "fun" or even "exercise." It appeared to be some bizarre version of self-inflicted neo-gothic torture.
Why? Because she may have a Lance Armstrong fantasy fueled by the popular press and marketing whiz kids, and because some clown in a bike shop pushed a piece of plastic on her instead of speaking with her and assessing her real (as opposed to her professed) needs. At least when I was buying bikes back in the day the shop guy was ethical enough to steer me away from the flashy race bike I lusted after toward a less expensive sport-tourer built for what I needed a bike to do.
Aside from the clear discomfort this poor gal was laboring under, is the safety issue----torquing the carbon fork the way she was, you hit the wrong country pothole out here and your next "ride" will likely be an electric-powered wheelchair---made of vintage steel. It has happened, and way more than once. How much better off--and safer--would she have been by getting a steel frame with a Nitto Technomic stem and bars up where she didn't have to fold herself in half to reach them.
My point is, MOST riders are done a great disservice by the monopolistic message out there pushing plastic and would be way better off sourcing their bikes from a place like Velo Orange than via VeloNews. It's why Bicycing magazine (the version without the exclamation point) has migrated from the latrine to the recycling bin to now total banishment from the household. It doesn't speak to me, and, unfortunately, it speaks forked-tongued to many who would be better off killing that Buddah when they meet him by the side of the road instead of opening an ear to his sophist message.
Peter Jourdain Whitewater, Wisconsin US of A
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