Let me get straight to the point. I own the lightest mountain bike in the world.
There I’ve said it. I’ve made a claim that will probably make any sane cyclist utter words they usually don’t use in the presence of small children. But here I am, practically a nobody in KL’s elite cycling circle, telling the whole world that those ‘uber’ Specialized and fancy ‘Giant’ carbon contraptions are pork chops compared to my tacky no-name Taiwanese hardtail.
A tacky no-name bike that tips the scale at 18 lbs; have you weighed your all terrain, ringgit devouring beast lately?
Now before you start sending death threats to the Fakawi chief for letting this audacious piece of ‘crap’ slip through his server, let me remind you that he is the one responsible for getting me into all this mess in the first place. Thanks a bunch, Chief.
It all started on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, I was happily minding my own business, checking out the tubing wall thickness of a couple of road bikes at a shop in Taman Tun.
Suddenly I saw him, the dude was trying to talk some guy into buying a cool Marin hardtail. The victim, also a friend of mine who later decided to invest his dough on carps, was sensible enough not to buy the bike.
But this poor sucker did!
And so the saga begins, the Doc has turned this fun loving, Kenny G worshiping hippie into a tight-assed weight weenie, a tragedy not unlike Anakin Skywalker’s shift of alliance to the dark side. The only difference is Darth Vader looks cool in his new outfit, whereas I still look like a dork on my fancy new bike.
Days passed and the weight losing obsession became more and more severe. In a time span of only a couple weeks, I have managed to upgrade everything except for the tiny fork cap that has the logo of a small rhino; just to emphasize the irony that the bike now weighs slightly less than half of my butt.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not a Lance Armstrong wannabe. I’ve never had cancer, never dated Sheryl Crow and I have a fitness level of a 52 year old high-court judge. This drive to have the lightest mountain bike possible is motivated by something really sinister. You see, a man like me can’t have the biggest pay check, can’t have the hottest chick, can’t have the coolest car but with god as my witness, chained to the grill of a locked room inside my burglar proof house is the world’s lightest mountain bike. It will remain my pride and joy until some jealous sod decides to burst my bubble with a claim of having a lighter bike. If you do, please e-mail me; don’t worry! I won’t hunt you down and mangle you like a rabid dog.
So there you have it, one sad story from one sad guy who is too awkward to be a roadie and too wimpy for off-road. If you happen to be in one of the ‘Tamans’ of Putrajaya and see this major geek pedaling a white hardtail with a cigarette in his mouth, honk once for support or honk twice if you feel like running him over because of this obnoxious article. And if you’re really groovy, don’t honk at all, just turn to the sexy chick sitting beside you and gently tell her this;
“See that dude over there, he’s riding the lightest mountain bike in the world”.
Thanks for reading.
:: View Gallery
No comments:
Post a Comment