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The Cranky Mechanic

By Uncle Chad

Ooohhh boy-oh-boy I tell ya. I was just at Interbike 09. Sometimes what happens in Vegas should definitely stay in Vegas, and some should come with you home in a ditty bag. Used to be the show was expensive to get to, and your bike was cheap. Now the show is cheap, and the bikes ya cant afford!! (sweatball,,,, you know the rest).

Granted the bikes are cool, the people are cool, the place is cool and the show is cool. The wheels weigh nothing, the bikes weigh nothing, and the models wear nothing. The products range from bikes to small gadgets. From hand warmers, to secret vitamins, to headbands to keep the sweat out of your eyes, (complete with a demo of the head of a mannequin with blue goo oozing out of his forehead – I kid you not!). And the carbon! Ohhhh the carbon! The greatest over-rated plastic to ever be invented. Monocoque, lugged, vacuum sealed, inflated, and who knows where they are all really made. Italian is made in Taiwan, Taiwan is made in China, China is made in Korea, Korea is made in Taiwan. Who the crap knows! High modulous, high resistance, nano super-duper technology! Can you make it any more expensive? Yes please!! Decked out in crazy paint schemes, natural weave, two-tone, raw, flat black, and even neon!! Sounds like a friggen bag of plastic fishing worms!! Shwing!! Should put them expensive things on a wall and have them sing like a Big Mouth Billy Bass!

Ah an idea. What if bass fishermen built bikes? They would be the most bad-ass bike out there. All the bikes would come jacked up with oversized tires and chrome bumpers with a winch on front. Instead of a Bentobox, there would be a chaw-tin of Cytomax. The rear parts bag would have a silhouette of a hot female cyclist. The seat-tube would be an extendable fishing rod, with a removable crankset for the fishing real. Colors of bikes would have names like “chartreuse”, “rootbeer”, and “new penny”. Bike stands would be made out of cinder blocks, and Craftsman would be the tool choice over Park and Pedros. The life of the rider would be fantastic! Although he wouldn’t really ride, but just lean against his bike in his parent’s driveway.

Oops. Back to the show. For retailers and bike stores that is. Yeah right. If that place was filled with only retailers, the companies would make a fortune. Fortunately, it’s eye candy for all who can venture to Vegas. Posers, Wannabees, and Can-I-haves, all scurrying around for a water bottle here, poster there, autograph of someone there. Then the mad dash for a beer before they are all sucked up. Good interbike goers will map out who is having a keg brought to their booths and what time at end of day. A poor interbiker times it too well, and is a stutterin, mutterin fool and can barely stand by 5:30pm. Geekamaina flows afterwards with evening crits and cyclocross races that will bore a boar.

Fortunately, the show is more than bikes. Venture to the east side, and you slowly morphisize into the grunge section of single speeds and bmx’rs. It’s like you are in a different world, searching for that lost roach in your 78 Camaro’s ashtray, to pop into the Graphic you lost back in college. A little north, and its big drop bikes. Little of one group ventures into each other’s section.

Just like rival clubs, interbike has its’ melting pot of people. Your stupid single speeders, crossbike sissys, dumb mountain bikers, f-in roadies, and yes, worm tossin bass fisherman.