Over the years I’ve come across all sorts of flotsam and detritus whilst cycling, but perhaps nothing I’ve encountered has been as disconcerting as this pair of pants:
Why are they just lying there in the middle of the bike path? Did some tragedy befall the erstwhile wearer? Is he far away? Did he drop them, extricate himself from them, and run away screaming? Or is he crouching pantless in the undergrowth just waiting to pounce? Sure, there could be an innocent explanation–oh, I dunno, like maybe they fell of the bike of some Brooklyn-bound bikepacker returning from a long weekend getaway with some friends. But the fact that the belt is still in situ around the waist suggests this is not the case, and that they were in fact removed in great haste. Also, those don’t look like the sort of pants that would belong to someone who watches “Path Less Pedaled.” For all these reasons and more, the discarded pants filled me with an existential sense of terror that was almost Kubrickian:

That’s pretty much exactly what I looked like, too, except I was clutching a Mike FramePlumper frame pump instead of a kitchen knife. Speaking of which, as of June 1st the Roadini will be six months old:

Given the milestone I was tempted to offer up some sort of six-month review. However, it occurred to me that after 18 years of writing about bikes I still have no idea how to review them. So I looked at an actual bike review more at less at random for guidance:

Granted, despite both being road bikes, the Specialized S-Works Tarmac SL8 and the Rivendell Roadini are pretty different. For example, my bike doesn’t have a “speed sniffer:”
The most polarising part of the design is the head tube, which Specialized has dubbed the ‘Speed Sniffer’ due to its less-than-beautiful (in my humble opinion) protrusion beyond the fork. It’s not dissimilar to the design of the Pinarello F, opting for more material in front of the steerer, rather than a longer trailing edge. As is often the case, now a year into its existence, the ‘Speed Sniffer’ doesn’t seem to be quite as polarizing as it once was.
Though it does have a lion with an eye patch, so I figured that was close enough:

However, while I appreciate not only the head tube’s aesthetics but also the convenience of the quill stem as well as the overall height, I had failed to give adequate consideration to its stiffness:
My first ride on the new bike – last year – was a memorable one, made up of twisty Scottish lanes just outside of Glasgow. What was immediately noticeable was that no more than 25 minutes into the ride, I was totally confident throwing the bike down damp and winding descents. The head tube stiffness made for very assured handling – something that was tangibly better than other bikes I have tested.
Have you ever lacked confidence in your bicycle because the head tube lacked sufficient stiffness? Of course you haven’t. That is because you cannot “feel” a head tube. However, you are not a professional bike reviewer, who is somehow able to discern the flex in the shortest piece of tubing on a bicycle frame.
Okay, fine, I know what you’re thinking: “That’s not the shortest piece of tubing on a bicycle frame! What about the bottom bracket?” Good point. I admit I don’t know whether or not the bottom bracket is technically considered a tube, but I do know that there’s absolutely no way anyone can feel that flex, even a professional bike reviewer. Right?
Wrong:
Bottom bracket stiffness too was impressive given the bike’s weight, though I wouldn’t say perfect. Interestingly, this is where Specialized said the biggest gains were to be found, but when sprinting all out, leaning the bike over to apply as much force as possible to the bottom bracket, I did feel some deflection.
Sure, some of the most successful professional bicycle racers in the history of the sport have ridden Specialized’s race bikes to victory without being unduly hampered by the bottom bracket, but alas it’s somehow not up to the rigors of a solo ride on the twisty lanes around Glasgow. I mean it’s good, but it’s not perfect. (What would “perfect” bottom bracket stiffness say, anyway? He does not make it clear.) And if you think maybe he’s just feeling the tires or something, then sorry, nope, you’re wrong, because he did the “maths” and it’s not the tires:
This can be caused by tyre deformation, but when you do the maths, experiencing some bottom bracket deflection at a torque of around 120Nm is realistic.
Oh sure. If five gets ya ten, ten’ll get ya twenty. It’s just common sense.
Anyway, bottom bracket flex at 120Nm aside, the Specialized S-works Tarmac SL8 is the best race bike he has ever ridden…
Simply put, the Specialized S-works Tarmac SL8 is the best race bike I have ever ridden.
…at least until he rides another race bike. In fact their Race Bike Of The Year was this Wilier Whogivesafuck:

Whew! Let’s review:
It’s like wine
It’s also a weapon (didn’t Jesus turn weapons into wine?)
It almost helped Mark Cavendish win a stage, though it turned out to be “illusive,” so you really can’t blame the bike. (Maybe he drank too much wine and started seeing things?)
In this context I feel grossly underqualified to review the Roadini, except to say that that it’s basically my dream bike and it makes me want to ride off into the horizon and never come back to this dreary, workaday world:

That must happen occasionally, right? Someone reaches cycling transcendence and gets transported to another plane of existence, never to be seen or heard from again? In a city as big as New York you’ve got to figure at least one or two people set out for their Sunday ride only to ascend to a higher state of existence beyond space and time and desire and the limitations of insufficiently stiff bottom brackets and head tubes.
Maybe that explains the pants…