Fixie love

-- A little something for all you haters

I love the whole fixie thing. Even tried it once.

Now I’m missing a posterior cruciate ligament. Figure I’m not really cut out for that sort of coolness.

These days my trusty Avanti’s tuned back to freewheel wretchedness and my riding style might be described as apologetic.

Looking back, it didn’t help that I’m too fat for those skinny jeans, too poor to buy a Brooks saddle, and too scared of tatts and piercing to street credibly individualise my saggy skin bag.

But, hey, I wear my street style on the inside, dude.

As a crippled outsider I’ve continued watching, often in awe of the stoic nonchalance a fixter is able to maintain running red lights, but always respectful of the whole thing they’ve got going on.

And I’m encouraged to see the occasional internet parody, like the one below, which tells me that far from being a sideshow on the distant periphery, unworthy of a single thought, fixter-ism is creeping from the fringes and into the consciousness of commentators and others a few cogs closer to, well, the mainstream.

And that’s good for everyone, I think.

Check it out. Hat tip to BikesnobNYC.