Bike Burrito

     Hungry? Me too. But I’m meeting up with some folks and hafta bike out there in 20. Fast food? Awful. Totally incompatible with my non-sedentary lifestyle. I need an action food. How about a burrito? Protein, carbs, greens, salsa verde– now that’s a meal. Somehow, though, I never learned to bike with no hands. And even if I did, I’m one of those types who wears a helmet and thinks a burrito-induced death is an undignified way to go.
Burritos are dangerous!
     You know me, though; I have a solution: the Burrito Holder 9000!
Shown w/ optional equipment. Dealer price may vary.
     It still works as a water bottle holder, if you’re into that kind of thing, but now it’s loaded with beany goodness and ready to fuel your cross-county trek (what– Cycling across the States is an absurd feat; you can totally make it across the county, though; you just need a burrito).

     Of course, when you get where you’re going, you’ll need to lock up. Which means you either need a tiny lock that fits in your pocket and good enough karma to guarantee a skinny pole to lock
How to carry a U lock.
up to; a shoulder bag to store a bigger lock in; or the absurd contraption I rigged to my bike, which is more difficult to untangle than the lock is to break.
     What the biking world needs is for someone to engineer a bike lock that integrates into your frame. I’ve been thinking of this for a while, but keep coming up empty. I only mention it because of the Amazing Debacle of Last Thursday Night:

     I rode into Union Sq to celebrate the birthday of one of my closest friends, and it turned out that a local microbrewery was also celebrating their birthday at the same bar. As such, there was a large turnout for a Thursday night, or really any night, in Union. A large turnout in a square with
Who's bike? MY bike!
practically non-existent public transportation means bikes are locked to everything: signs, meters, trees, door handles, sewer grates, police cars, small children... it was a bit absurd. I finally found a particularly awkward spot on a signpost surrounded by potted plants. The bar was rockin’, and Jake was looking fly in his birthday suit (that doesn’t sound right). At around 1am, people started deciding that any more partying would mean coming in to work still drunk, so we called our occupation a success and headed out.
     If you ride, you know the frustration of amateurs locking up to the same post as you. They don’t oppose their bike, or somehow manage to tangle their handlebars in your rear triangle (that also doesn’t sound right). So I was
already a bit annoyed to see someone else had thought I had a good
Illustrated uses of fixies
idea in locking to the super-awkward sign. Doubly so when I noticed it was a fixie. At least it wasn’t locked to my frame. I started unlocking before I realized that the fixie was locked through my main triangle. Yeah. I was locked in. My first thought was to disassemble the small fixie and pull it through my frame (factual note: yeah, I can do that– it wouldn’t be the first time). I was talked
How to lock a bike next to mine.
into agreeing that this plan would take too long, then that calling the police to break the lock and impound the offending bike was not as awesome an idea as I thought, and finally– somehow– that I should try to find the owner. Well, damn.
     I picked a bar, and started asking around for the owner of a bike with too many different colors. The very first girl I asked: her eyes grew large, and she said, “I tried so hard not to lock our bikes together!” Really.
     The moral of this story: first, I have magical asshat radar. More importantly:


  1. Funny how the Burrito holder 9000 resembles both my coffee mug holder and my tall-boy holder

  2. Alternatively for certain specific others reading the blog: Don't bike, Stupid!


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