Dumonde Tech G-10 Bio-Green Chain Lube Review

When the subject of chain lube comes up, I am generally a pure agnostic. A simple Google search will reveal a plethora of heated, perpetual, and simultaneously partisan and inconclusive discussions about which little bottle of oil is the right one.  My position, generally, is that your chain needs oil and as long as that oil shows up regularly, it doesn't really matter which oil you use. As a result of my not particularly caring about what oil I use, a lot of little bottles have come through my garage.  Given that background, I figure the bottle I grabbed for my trip from Vancouver to the Mexican border deserves a little write up.

The Mullet

The Squirrel Pelt. The Tennessee Top Hat. Hockey Hair. Call it what you will, no-one can possibly forget the mullet. The mission statement was simple but effective: Business in the front; party in the back.  It was the classic split-personality, Janus-faced (with emphasis on the “anus”) hairstyle of the 70s and 80s, adopted by rednecks, rock stars, and athletes alike. Think Macgyver or Paul McCartney (post-Beatles-breakup) or Jaromir Jagr. It may have fallen out of fashion of late and even been banned in the Islamic Republic of Iran, considered a dangerous and “decadent” Western hairstyle, but we all know the Camaro Cut will never completely die. It’s just too transgressive, too potent, too damn awesome.

New Years Eve 2012

Well, there you go: another year down.  All the idiots who don't understand the Mayan calendar can breathe easy, though, because it looks like there's still at least one more  year in the chamber.

Dusty Lens #8

Happy Holidays from the Dusty Musette.

Xmas Eve Is Upon Us

Hey Kids,

Just a quick message for you. If you haven't asked Santa for that new bike yet, you may have missed your shot. BUT MAYBE NOT.

Cheers,

The Dusty Musette Crew

Bicycletiquette: Stocking Stuffers

Dear Jasper,

I’m looking to buy some inexpensive gifts for cyclist friends and family. I see your colleague, Val Garou, has suggested gifts to avoid, but do you have any recommendations for stocking stuffers that I should buy?

Happy Holidays,

Miss L. Towe

Ah, Miss Towe, I have fond childhood memories of rising early of a Christmas morning, starting a blazing fire in the grate, slaughtering the family goose, and unpacking my Christmas stocking. 

What small wonders I recall digging out one by one: a lump of coal, a bent stick, a few linty bon-bons, a vial of cod-liver oil, and, in our more prosperous years, a firm parsnip or rutabega in the tippy toe. Of course, Santa always included something for my bike, be it sparkly handlebar tassles or a homemade reflector fashioned out of a turkey wattle. Such, such were the joys!

The Dusty Lens (#6)

Autumn Nights

Blurry, out of focus, but glowing. That's mostly how I remember the end of the riding season, so this shot from the discard pile is actually the best one for the job.

All I Don't Want for Christmas . . .

This is the time of year when both gifting and gifts occupy a significant amount of mental space. I'm a bike guy, and, naturally, I know a lot of bike guys, so I've been thinking about bike-centric gifts a bit lately. What I think, mostly, is that I am afraid of them.

Code of the Semi-Serious Cyclist: Part 8 (Camera)

The Semi-Serious Cyclist likes to roll with a camera. In a back pocket, in a handle-bar bag, around his neck, mounted on his helmet—anywhere handy and ready to point and click in a flash, from the roadside, or even, dare I say, from the saddle on the fly. 

No matter where he is riding—be it on a tour in an exotic land or on a well-worn loop in his own backyard—interesting, weird, beautiful, tacky, bizarre, photo-worthy shit abounds. There’s something magical about the perspective from the saddle: the lovely and strange details of the world around us are just so noticeable when cycling. So why not take a moment to capture these sights?