Living For The City

Last night was the 2nd annual memorial ride for Charlie Prinsep who was killed last year on his cross continental adventure. It was a small group but a good group – we rode through the neighborhood where Charlie grew up which is also his final resting place and then down to the lakeshore where some very kind folks has planted a memorial tree for all the cyclists who have been killed on our streets and across the country. I took lots of blurry pictures and poured a little on the concrete for our dead homies.

After the ride I whipped over to Cinecycle for the Dandyhorse Magazine launch party. Tammy, Warren & Crew have done a wonderful job on the first issue and I am very proud to have had a part, albeit a very small one, in helping to get it together. Congratulations, folks, it looks great!

Pick up your complimentary first copy at your LBS this weekend.

PS The weather this year has seriously sucked eggs… seriously.

As some of you may remember, I recently made some attempts to rectify the horrible Saddle Shred™ situation going on in my wardrobe by patching previously thrashed jeans. Well, it worked for a week or so and then…

So, I’ve got a new solution and it’s a two parter:

1) New jeans. Naked & Famous, 21 Ounce (read: THICK!) raw Japanese denim, made ethically in Canada.

2) New Saddle. Brooks Swift, Titanium edition – Huzzzuh!

I’d put the word out that I was looking to buy a B17, preferably used (the politics of skin), after hearing that they were super comfy once broken in and pretty easy on the old pantaloons as well.

Well, my boy Wes stepped up in a big way and offered to lend, with the possibility of a later buyout, his Titanium railed Swift which is an extremely beautiful piece – almost too beautiful for me. Hopefully I’ll be able to ride it long enough to see if it’s “for me” before I totally thrash it like I do everything I own and be forced to buy it regardless.

Speaking of things getting Thrashed.

On my way back from Wes’ house to mount this beautiful new saddle I ran into Toronto’s premier Track Bike Trickster™ Tom Mosher™ who had managed to completely seize his front wheel. Every time I run into Tom he’s got some sort of bike malfunction – every time I am shocked. Except not really…

We got his wheel rolling well enough to get back to my place where the cone wrenches are a plenty so we could give his wheel the tune up it needed before he goes out and bashes the hell out of it again. He gave me the rundown of key features of his bike including;

Gangsta Track fork for 700c Barspins.

Home Depot toe straps.

Blood stained cranks with home made(?) bashguard.

Tom Mosher: One in a million.

Update: Steph’s leg is healing well – thanks everybody for all the well wishes.

Update: My science experiment is over. The Gekko is dead – as expected, like Ann Peebles, it couldn’t stand the rain. RIP.

Lifted from the Devil Strip Rollers website:

This week is the annual Ride For Charlie. This is not a DSR event but organized by friends of Charlie. Again this year we will be meeting at JetFuel for 7pm this coming Thursday (08.28) for a casual spin through Cabbagetown and then looping down to the lake where we’ll head West to the memorial tree for fallen cyclists. Even if you didn’t know Charlie come out and ride for the love of the ride and in memory of all of the cyclists we’ve lost in careless accidents. In keeping with last year, we’ll have handouts to explain to passers by what’s happening as this is not a protest ride. If you’d like to print your own and bring them, we’ve made a downloadable pdf available here.

Last year’s ride was a lot of fun and a great way to celebrate a part of Charlie’s life so if you’re at all interested, please come out and ride. If anyone wants to join me I plan to do the ride for Charlie and then make my way down to the Dandyhorse Launch Party – a new Toronto bike magazine which I contributed a few small pieces to.

Last week I noticed this nasty little gash in my rear tire and figured that I really should replace it but just never got around to it.

On Monday, I was loosing air (slow leak) and replaced the tube before riding up to Avenue & Lawrence for Dodgeball. The new tube held and I made it home safely but still didn’t bother to replace that tire. Well, last night while on my way up to meet my lady at her workplace I had a high speed blowout that nearly dethroned me. No problem, right? I’ve got a pump, levers and a tube, right? Not so fast, snackshack!

I thought that the when my pump broke in Europe that I could move the presta guts to the shrader side and have it continue to work while I waited for Crank Brothers to send me replacement parts and it did for a while, but not last night.

Well, I made it home eventually but it was a major pain in the ass (thanks for the pump, Aner) and when I checked my mail this morning what do you suppose was in there?

Yeah, that’s right. Unfortunately they sent me the reds and the caps but didn’t send the seals that go along with them so I was kind of SOL.

Until, of course, I dug around in the old parts cupboard and found some old ones that will work just fine…

Thanks again to the fine folks at Crank Brothers. The pump may break down from time to time but they’ve been really good at replacing parts (and entire products) when needed.

After a major rager on Friday night it was nice to settle down with the fellas for a cool drink at Bellwoods before heading into the market for an afternoon of sandwiches, sketchy people watching and pre-teen b-boys. Had there been nice long ride and a trip to the pool thrown in for good measure, it might have been the perfect Summer Saturday.

After the long ride back from a birthday party at Woodbine & Danforth (Happy Birthday Teagan!) it was nice to run into the boys on the Lakeshore so that we could spend the rest of the night playing bicycles like good boys should.

The Wonger was nice enough to invite Aner BSOD #1 and I out to Bocce with him and the boys last Friday night before The Sundog’s 31st Birthday Extravaganza. It’s a game of great skill, finesse and strategy… but mostly I think it’s just an excuse for the fellas to get together at the end of a work week and drink tall cans in park.

Note the Eduardo Bianchi head tube badge rip on Dave’s “That’s how we roll” Bocce t-shirt. Seriously so boss!

Happy Birthday to Sparkie Clarkie. He knows what it means to be a truly good friend and I’m proud to call him one of my best.

What a night, buddy. What a night!

Last Friday started much like any other; I rode to work, poured myself a tall glass of water and got down to business. Around 10:15 I got the call that I’d hoped I’d never get; that my girl had been hurt in a bicycle accident involving a motor vehicle and a careless individual.

On her way to work, she was approaching a green light that had just changed from red – there were two cabs in a row stopped in front of her but given that the light had just been red and there were no turn signals or four way flashers on indicating that anyone would be getting out she proceeded as one would normally. Except there was someone getting out and that person had no intention of looking over their shoulders before opening the door which slammed into Steph’s knee – hard enough to transfer the paint from the door onto Steph’s pantleg.

The cab fled the scene immediately (thanks, Co-op!) and the girl was apparently kind of sympathetic but didn’t really understand the seriousness of the situation. I guess most people don’t really understand that not looking before swinging that door into traffic can seriously ruin someone’s day but then again, why should they? We have a system that punishes even the most extreme cases with the lightest of wrist slaps.

Still in shock, Steph felt well enough after the accident to ride so she opted not to report the accident at the time and rode to work. As soon as she tried to stand on her leg she realized that something was horribly wrong. I was able to cancel meetings and shift deadlines around so I could whip up to meet her, get her in a cab and get back down to the hospital.

While we were waiting, we decided to call the police to find out who bears the responsibility (cab or passenger) and we were informed that the cab is not responsible for the actions of it’s passengers so the facts that he did not signal the stop nor did he remain at the scene of an accident were of little consequence… somehow, legally speaking, I doubt that this is entirely correct but I digress…

Luckily for Steph nothing was broken and hopefully will heal well in a couple of weeks. Luckily for the girl that doored her, the name and phone number that she’d written so nicely on a piece of scrap paper and handed to Steph while saying “call me if you need anything” was fake. That’s right, this cockhole gave a fake name and number to avoid any responsibility for her actions. That’s ok, the money we had to pay for cabs, crutches, etc. is nothing compared to the bomb that karma will hopefully drop on her stupid fucking face.

So what does one do when involved in an accident like this? It’s hard in the heat of the moment to cover all your bases and make sure that you’re going to be protected in the future. I’ve always been the type of person who believes that people should be responsible for their actions and held accountable for them but dealing with situations like this properly has a lot less to do with “making them pay” and much more to do with protecting yourself.

Take your time
Seriously. Don’t worry about where you were going or what you were doing before the accident and most certainly don’t worry about what they were doing. You didn’t ask to get hit, you didn’t ask for them to open a door on your so even if you’re trying to be nice to them and get on with your day remember that you can take all the time in the world you need to collect yourself, get over the shock and let it all sink in. It’s hard to make solid decisions about how you’re going to handle the situation when you’ve been through something so physically and emotionally jarring. Sit down, have someone get you a some water and start dealing with it when you’re ready to start dealing with it.

Call the Police
Especially when the accidents don’t seem all that serious at the time, we’re hesitant to involve police but the more I’m thinking about it the more I think it’s worthwhile to call them at the scene. I know that we all want to be nice and forgiving and recognize that most of the time these accidents are caused by simple mistakes anyone could make but this really isn’t about them, it’s about you. These things need to be documented for two main reasons; one being making sure that your damages are covered by the party at fault (or their insurance, or whatever) and the second being so that “the man” understands that these are real problems and will hopefully step up to improve infrastructure in the future. The city is obviously aware of the realities on our streets but the more reports they have and the more statistics they have to go on – the harder it’ll be for them to ignore them. Those numbers don’t exist if we don’t file those reports.

Say nothing
I remember when I got hit in October the woman that hit me just kept asking “How do you feel? Are you ok?” over and over again and I just kept telling her “I don’t know” because I know that you don’t always feel your injuries right away. Your body goes into shock to compensate for the pain so while you’re on your endorphin high you could tell the other party “don’t worry about it, I’m fine” and the next day you could find that something is fractured, torn, badly bruised or worse and it won’t matter because you’ll have walked away from the scene having told them that you were fine. In my case, it wasn’t until I’d walked home and showered that I realized that I had torn ligaments in my shoulder and in Steph’s case it wasn’t until she’d ridden to work before she realized that she couldn’t walk.

Get out your pen
If you decide that you don’t want to involve the police and all that entails be sure to get them to give you accurate contact information and make them sign something stating clearly what happened. Had I not asked the woman that hit me to write a note on the back of her business card that said “I acknowledge that I hit Matt Rennick, while riding his bicycle on the morning of October 24, 2007″ (or something to that effect) I may not have been successful in dealing with her and her insurance company once I fully realized the extent of the damage to my bicycle and my body – but I did and I was. If they refuse; call the police right away and do your best to gather witness information because the chances of them being there by the time the po-po shows up are slim. If they aren’t willing to admit fault on paper at the scene chances are they’ll go back on their admission later… or give you fake contact info and go on their merry way. Remember, you’re doing them a favor by not calling the police if they are at fault so you are in a position of power; use it.

Get checked out
Go to the hospital. Contrary to what Michael Moore says, you’re not going to be out of there in 20 minutes but your well-being is well worth a couple of hours in the waiting room. Even if you don’t feel it right away, it’s worth getting yourself looked at so that you can know how best to treat your injuries from day one. If nothing else, having that paper trail will help you again in dealing with police, insurance companies, guilty parties, and whoever else when the time comes.

I didn’t think that there was enough stank left in the room for a proper gas face after that last video but god damnit, the type of person that could give someone the door prize and then give them a fake phone number is deserving of the gas chamber so it is with great pleasure that I present that random piece of garbage that doored my baby and the cabbie who didn’t feel the moral or legal obligation to stop and make sure she was ok with a very special GAS FACE!

Sound familiar?

Fortunately it didn’t end that way for me but it’s a good reminder that sometimes we’re not quick or strong enough to avoid serious injury. The kicker is that this guy is a doctor – a fucking medical professional! This is a man that is responsible for the health and well being of others and in at least two instances he has been responsible for the exact opposite.

Bad drivers, along with bad doctors get… yeah, it’s back… the gas face!

Via Tracko Via Prolly

I’ve been on the hunt for a short brimmed baseball cap ever since I laid my peepers on the amazing catcher’s cap that Nick Brown inherited from The Tobra Snake but haven’t had a ton of luck tracking one down. I nearly pulled the trigger on a classic Cooperstown but they’re pretty pricey and I wasn’t sure on sizing so I was pretty stoked when I saw what Brixton was up to.

I had my buddy Sean (Hey! Me and my buddy Sean!) get in touch with his Brixton hookup but when Adrift got their order in quicker I snapped one up. It’s a nice little cap, a little warm for the summer but it’ll be perfect when the temperature drops and the leaves start to change.

With all the rain we’ve been getting and with everyone’s busy schedules it’s been hard to get folks together to put in the kind of kilometers we were putting in last summer. Tonight when I couldn’t get anyone to put tire to asphalt with me (granted, I didn’t try too hard) I hopped on the Lakeshore and opened ‘er up. There was a cool breeze along the waterfront, the trails were clear, quiet and I’m about as relaxed as I get. Word up.

On a totally unrelated note; when I was a kid, probably no older than 6 or 7 years old, I threw up all over myself in our old yellow station wagon and had to pull over at this gas station to get into my underoos for the rest of the ride to my Auntie Carol and Uncle Daniel’s place.

Those turrets became as much of a symbol of the city for me as the giant Phallus in the skyline – it bummed me out so hard a couple of years ago to see an empty lot where it used to stand. Imagine my surprise when I saw that it’d hadn’t been razed – it had just been moved across the street where it is currently being restored.

The very same day that I decided to buy my first Mac for home use, my creative director called us into the boardroom and proposed the idea of the whole New Media department make the switch. Knowing that I was already planning on heading out that night to pick one up, it didn’t take much convincing. They came in this week and these things are truly beautiful – I’m so psyched!

…to Road Rash.

Sparkles took a nice tumble on the slippery ride home from the Regulators’ game last Sunday night.

I took a much more embarrassing tumble at the game, proving that I either need to buy some cleats or improve my balance – or better yet a little from column a and a little from column b.

An honorable mention goes to my gal Steph who chewed up her backside pretty badly last night making a brave attempt to steal home at the Missfits game (she’s done it before, folks, she’s stealthy!) but I forgot to download the photos and I don’t have the cable with me – not that I think she’d be too stoked about me posting gratuitous butt shots all over the internet, anyway!

On my way to the outdoor dodgeball game the other night I had a little encounter with a minivan piloted by a human-sized penis that had me steamin’. Cyclist / Motorist beef is nothing new but I felt this particular incident worth mentioning.

• I was riding Eastbound on Queen approaching Dufferin
• I cut left to avoid right turning cars
• Once through the intersection, I got back into the right lane
• I was riding about 2 feet out to avoid the plentiful and significant potholes and roadside bombs
• The Cryptkeeper in his minivan behind me didn’t appreciate the fact that there was a cyclist in front of him regardless of the fact that I was easily doing his speed or better
• He starts riding me closer and begins to honk
• I respond with a simple hand gesture, as you might expect
• He guns it to my left, looks me dead in the eye and then cuts right in an effort to sideswipe me
• My left pedal connected with his right rear wheel which was very nearly enough to bring me down
• I managed to stay upright, he took off and I gave chase

As I approached his car, now stopped on Queen, I had a million thoughts racing through my head but my prime directives were as follows; a) u-lock through his rear window b) fist through his cigarette stained corn kernal teeth and down his throat c) grab his heart and pull it up to where his Adam’s apple normally sits and leave it there because that is where mine had been sitting from the moment this ancient son of a bitch turned his two ton wrecking machine into me.

Fortunately, I’ve been working on controlling my temper on the road and by the time I’d caught up to him my better judgment had taken hold and rather than further escalating the situation in a negative way I chose to slide in front of his car, block his exit, call the police and wait there until they showed up.

The police arrived and from the onset of our interaction they treated me with a great deal of respect, consideration and understanding. I understood from the moment I called them that very little could or would be done (unfortunately the proof normally required in a case like this would be my head smashed open on the pavement) but I thought the incident worth reporting and the officer agreed – his hope was that even having to deal with them that night would cause him to think twice the next time he felt the urge to run someone off the road.

The responding officer gave him a lecture about sharing the road and let him know that, by all accounts, I had not done anything wrong (save for the hand gesture) and had a very friendly talk with me about how “these old guys” handle themselves on the road and how careful guys like me have to be in dealing with people because I’m more vulnerable on my bike – no arguments there.

Be careful out there folks; being in the right is good but trust me, being alive is better.

I’ve been playing Dodgeball for the last 3 years or so as a part of the 3 time champion DirtBalls but last Friday Steph, Jordan and I switched it up and played late night, outdoor, alcohol infused dodgeball with a bunch of folks (including former competitors) in a local school’s tennis court. Needless to say, it’s a buttload of fun and I highly recommend coming out if you’ve ever wanted to play but weren’t able to due to limited spots on our highly coveted team.

I think they’re playing again in two weeks so I’ll be sure to post up and let y’all know!

Much like Matias, Bentley and Tommy were apparently quite upset that they hadn’t really been featured on the old blogerino so here’s a couple snaps of two of my favorite little guys.

Tommy: eating carrots fresh from his momma’s patio garden*.

Bentley: making sure that no one gets to sleep in.

*and loving Motörhead.

Lyndsey over at Adrift finally got in these black on black vegan old schools that I’ve been scoping for some time now but haven’t been able to find in the city (in my size) but didn’t care enough to order online. I haven’t owned a pair of old schools in probably 15 years so I’m pretty jazzed.

While I was there I picked up a couple pairs of the Vans Spicoli sunnies that she has on the cheap. The last time I remember owning sunglasses that I actually liked was sometime in the late 80′s / early 90′s when I had a pair of knock-off Wayfarers and wanted badly a pair of Frogskins. It’s only fitting that I would again own a pair of knock-off Wayfarers and knock-off Frogskins (sort of) because I don’t think I could ever pay more than $20 for something that I will almost certainly break or lose before summer’s end. I almost think that they are too cool for me but then again, who says that I can’t be cool? I can be cool! Sooooooooo cool!

Two sunnies is the new one sunnies – you didn’t know? I knew.