This is a mid-essay rant. Oddly enough, for an ANU student, it'll be devoid of Marxism, postmodern jargon and the word "context" will be strictly forbidden.
Singlespeeders often wax lyrical about the state of simplicity and zen attained by their clean, silent drivetrains. Instead of having derailleurs dangling asymmetrically from their bikes, their dishless wheels and (frequently slack) 8 speed chains are tensioned by many other ineffectual methods, including sliding dropouts that slide a little too freely, and eccentric bottom brackets which creak more than the average ANU exchange student's $20 K-Mart special.
But this is forgiveable. Unlike gears, (which are incidentally just chain tensioners with commitment issues), the noble goal is the reduction of complexity, rather than the confounding of mid-ride choices. When I worked as an indoor cricket umpire, I discovered that people couldn't count to 8, so frequently slipped in 7 ball overs to make up time. No wonder, then, that 27 gears are beyond the grasp of so many riders who, in their trauma, turn to the unity of one.
In this context (gah!) - the post-post-modern age of cynical, retrocyclists with their ergonomic moustache bars and ironic bells - a most disturbing trend has emerged. A veritable paradigm shift in the perception of singlespeeds. Enter the blinglespeed. The specially shaped carbon stays mated to a scandium tubeset for a "laterally stiff yet vertically compliant" rear end. The rear wheel that just HAS to be built around a Chris King singlespeed hub, because having a dished wheel with spacers would (in the words of Mavic?) inevitably compromise the wheel's ability to "keep its integrity". The gratuitous use of titanium frames. The magnesium brake caliper to reduce weight. The constant search for chainrings and cogs that are lighter than the ubiquitous steel Surly products. The eventual decision to run a 9spd chain because of the 20% weight saving, and 30% reduction in durability. The decision to enter the Angry Doctor on said singlespeed, which turns into rather a pleasant WALK around Mogo State Forest.
And, just to add insult to injury, all these blinglespeeders will, inevitably, get cleaned up on a cold winter's day by a rather androgenously dressed man in wifebeater, denim hot pants and Dunlop Volleys astride his Voodoo Agwe commuter. He may or may not be asking for the bike path to Civic.
Now back to the land of essays!
*Whoosh*
- DeflatED.
