Bicycles are like porn stars

Bicycles are like porn stars. Okay, this sound like a setup for a litany or borsch-belt zingers about hard rides and things between your legs. About expensive rides and too much effort. But I mean it seriously, and if you ride and watch porn, I think you'll agree with me.

They're like porn stars because we have opinions about them, even though we've never met them. Gentlemen, you can go to big-time strip clubs, buy all the DVDs, and even get your copies autographed at the Playboy Club, but the chances of having an intimate interaction with Miss January are represented by one of those mathematical functions that approaches zero.

It's the same with quality bikes. Especially if you're a bike magazine geek like myself, you've read plenty of road tests, from the mid-line all the way up to cost is no object artwork. You may have discussed relative strengths and weaknesses with your geek buddies. But even if you're in the position to afford a $12,000 Pinarello Prince, it's very unlikely that you've ever seen one. Bob's Bike Shop can't keep sstuff like that on the floor--hell, even if they did, what makes you think it'd be the right size? It's all special order, and you're going to buy it blind, or on the strength of a factory test ride. Magazines are the only bridge across this divide for most of us, and often the expensive bikes are not just a dream of how we wish to ride, they're a fantasy of who we want to be.

My dream bike for a time was a John TOmac Raleigh. Titanium frame, disk rear wheel, fork that changed, chameleon like depending on who his sponsor was that week. But most importantly, it had a head angle of 72 degrees. This is pretty normal for a road bike, but extremely quick steering for a off road. I wanted to see myself as someone quick enough, skilled enough to keep an expert's bike reeled in: to ride that bull, not the sleepy mare.

The reality of my bike handling skills was less glorious, and the quick-steering bikes I've ridden in the years since have spit me off the side more than once. It's a good thing that 1991 didn't leave me with that kind of cash, because I would have bought nothing with it but crashes.

But that didn't stop me dreaming. I dreamed of Bontragers, with the front wheel tucked so far back that it couldn't wash out on hard turns. I dreamed of Moots, especially after they switched to Ti only. I dreamed of a Ti Xixang, assorted Litespeeds, Steve Potts. Ti turned me on, because of its alleged anti-vibration qualities, not that I'd ever ridden it. My list of two wheeled porn stars started with a Bontraager Ti-lite and a Moots Ybbeat.

Its nearly twenty years since my last race, but reckless financial choices and a much better paycheck have let me buy some of the bikes I'd dreamed about, especially the first two from the list. My Moots was built to order for me, with the soft tail rear and a greasy smooth 80mm fork. The Bon came from Ebay, with a somewhat decrepit Judy but a mixed XTR/XT group. So now the dream begins: time to ride.

The Bon has been my everyday off-raoder for all of this year as I dialed in its fit. I swapped out the ridiculous, complicated Vee brakes for cantilevers, and the oxidized tires for a pair of Velociraptors.

THe Moots came with an LX group, but upgraded (Nukeproof )wheels, and the rear derailleur was upgraded to an XTR. The fork needs service and the chain is worn. The tires, giveaways I recieved for re-upping a magazine subscription, have worn nearly slick and drift alarmingly.

So, I'm going to bring the Moots up to fighting trim, and test it back to back with the Bon. I may be old, and too sorry to race, but it's never too late to dream.