I realize I’ve been remiss in sharing my unique brand of shitty avian photography, so by may of making amends, please enjoy this photo of a woodpecker:
When I first spotted the bird it was mere feet from me, enjoying the bird seed some weirdo must have scattered there, but by the time I wrangled my phone from my cycling-specific jacket it had taken flight and retreated to the safety of the tree. I barely even managed to capture its red crest, though you can kind of see it here:
Here’s a closer look:
Kind of looks like a painting, doesn’t it?
AS far as I can tell, this is the so-called “Red-bellied woodpecker,” or bellius redus peckerwoodarius.
Cool.
As for why the so-called Red-bellied Woodpecker doesn’t seem to have a red belly at all, that’s something you don’t bring up around birders because it makes them incredibly defensive and uncomfortable.
By the way, do you enjoy getting dirty looks? Ride past a group of birders on a bicycle. They’ll look at you like you just walked in on them in the bathroom.
Anyway, when I spotted the woodpecker I happened to be riding the PRJCT GRVL bike, shown here at the Gates of Hell:
On Monday, I said I wouldn’t make any “sweeping prounouncements” about the PRJCT GRVL bike yet, which prompted a commenter to comment thusly:
I’ll make a sweeping pronouncement–you will like the bike. Just like every other bike you ride.
Hey, wait a minute! That’s not true!
[Racks brain for an example of a bike I didn’t like]
[Keeps racking]
[Keeps racking…]
Okay, wait! I hated this bike:
Re-reading that post now, it’s hard to believe I was once so relevant that upon complaining about a Gates belt drive the people at Gates actually reached out to me directly in order to hold my hand and correct my wrongthink, an incident of which I have no recollection whatsoever. Note also that this monstrosity was equipped with dick breaks way back in 2011, and also that it had a Microshift shifter:
I knew those Sword Black shifters felt familiar!
So yes, there’s one bike I emphatically and unequivocally didn’t like.
I’ve also had other bikes I didn’t like for the simple reason that the frame broke or was otherwise structurally unsound in some way–an exceedingly rare occurrence in my case to be sure, but it has happened. And I’m conflicted as to whether or not to include the Renovo here:
It never broke broke or became unrideable, and overall it was a pleasure to ride, but it did start to emit mystery creaks, and there were spots where you could see the wood had split, and while I’m willing to accept that as rustic charm when it comes to my living room floor, I’m not prepared to live with it from a bicycle.
So I don’t like that either.
Otherwise, yes, I end up liking or even loving most bicycles, even the ones that are fundamentally in opposition to my guiding principles. For example, despite my stated preference for traditional diamond frames made from steel, I’m quite fond of the Plimpton Bike:
Then again, I am a contrarian, so the fact that almost everyone else hates it is all the reason I need to embrace it. Plus it’s a rolling homage to my own blog, so how could I not?
Those examples aside, broadly speaking, the criteria by which I evaluate a bike are as follows:
- Is it fun to ride?
- Is it easy to live with?
- Do I like the way it looks?
Well, the trails have dried out and firmed up, despite occasionally being strewn with bread:
Furthermore, my body is mostly recovered from my crash, so I’m finally able to start riding the bike a little bit more like it’s supposed to be ridden:
So is it fun to ride? Yes it is. On the road I’d rather be on a road bike (go figure), but it’s smooth and stable on trails like the one above, and I was comfortable enough with it that I even took in some easier sections of the forbidding Trails Behind The Mall:
This represents the outer edge of the sort of riding you’d want to do with this bike, though I’m sure you could push it by switching to 650b wheels with wider tires, or installing a [gasp] suspension fork, which this particular frame will accept. This in turn leads to tedious analyses in the bike media about whether you’re better off just racing gravel on a cross country mountain bike, and it’s this endless cycle of inventing and re-inventing the same thing all over again I find so annoying, not the bikes themselves:
This is why I like the Jones so much:
If you want a bike with disc brakes and all the rest of it but you’ve also had enough of the cycle, JBAJA. (That’s Just Buy a Jones Already.)
But this all starts to get philosophical, and therefore just as tedious as all the marketing and all the reviews. This is a drop bar bike for riding and racing on all the terrain that’s not the road and not the mountain bike trail, which I guess is the miscellany everyone has decided to call “gravel.” I have no idea how it compares to all the other bikes also designed and marketed for that purpose, and I don’t really care, either. But yes, it’s definitely fun to ride.
As for being easy to live with, it seems like it should be. I like simple. I like familiar. I like stuff it’s within my meager ability to fix, and if I need to replace something I like to be able to do it with something else I already have if at all possible. When I crashed the Cervino I was able to do just that, whereas if I’d crashed one of these new Carbon Aero Modules I’d have needed a bunch of new stuff proprietary to said Carbon Aero Module–assuming the module didn’t assplode upon impact, that is–not to mention bleeding brakes and who knows what else.
So far the biggest mechanical challenge with the PRJCT GRVL bike by far has been the internal cables, which if I were shopping for a bike myself I’d make a point of avoiding…but at least it’s done and I don’t see why I’d need it do it again anytime soon. Otherwise, the bike is entirely mechanical and doesn’t require anything weird or exotic. With the mechanical disc brakes there would be nothing stopping you from using old parts you’ve got lying around or even going Full Rivendell on this bike complete with friction shifters and Choco bars, which believe me I considered doing, but which I ultimately decided was not in the spirit of the exercise:
Instead I figured I’d sort of split the difference, and as long as I don’t have to ROUTE THE CABLE HOUSING AGAIN it should be as easy to live with as any other inanimate object.
As for frame material, I don’t think there’s any substance that’s easier to live with than steel. Still, while this one may be aluminiuminum with a crabonium fork, it’s not like I’m riding around in a state of high anxiety or anything like that:
And finally we come to the way it looks:
Should this matter? No. Does it matter? Yes.
This bike was a project begun by my friend, and I would characterize his aesthetic as “stealth.” If it came in black, he wanted it in black. If a decal or a label came off via any technique short of sandblasting, he removed it. While not so extreme, I too used to be partial to the “stealth” aesthetic, which is why years ago I ordered a fully custom bicycle which it was impossible to photograph in a manner that made it visually compelling:
This has changed as I’ve gotten older, and I credit two people for this. One is Paul at Classic Cycle, who would send me bikes like this:
A splatter-painted bike is like snails–I’d never order it myself, and when I think about it I get kind of nauseated, but when someone gives one to me to try I end up liking it a lot more than I expected, go figure.
Then of course there’s Old Man Petersen:
When I got my first Rivendell I realized it feels really good to have a beautifully painted bike.
So yes, the PRJCT GRVL bike’s spartan sensibility makes me think fondly of both my own racing days and my friend’s extreme case of monochromatomania. At the same time, if you saw this one on the rack at Walmart, would you even notice it? Probably not. Is that a good thing? If you’re a cycling ascetic like my friend was then yes. But if you’re an old fusspot like me you realize you want a little color. I tried to break it up a little with the silver cage and the gravel-patterned bar tape (yes, that’s gravel-specific tape!), but somehow it only enhanced the bike’s Walmartness.
Sweeping pronouncement: a little generic-looking, but a good bike.