Sunday morning. Coffee shop. The kooks are running amok. It is a sight to behold. They are legion, these middle-aged men wearing their bib shorts over their obscenely-tight Lycra jerseys. Did they all get up this morning, overwhelmed by an undeniable urge to transform their $180 Castelli bib shorts into some kind of sausage-enhancing Lycra overall costume? How else to explain the phenomenon?
Clickety-clack-clickety-clack-clickety-clack…. The kooks mill about on the tiled floor of the coffee shop ever-so-carefully. Their Look cleats and carbon fiber-soled ballet slippers are fit for one thing—dropping the hammer on other kooks during the Sunday morning ride. Walking the 10 feet from the cash register to their table, on the other hand? With those shoes, it is a feat of daring-do on par with scaling the Eiffel Tower after jumping into a vat of KY Jelly.
The kooks slip and slide on the tiled floor as they duck walk along, spilling overpriced latte on the floor, dropping biscotti and F-bombs. They are 50-year old software designers and dentists and tax accountants. They are trumpeting their respective KOMs. They are heroes coming home from their own special war. And believe them when they tell you loudly through mouthfuls of brioche and almond croissants—there were no team cars or domestiques or bottles of champagne on hand. And yet here they are, 20 rolling miles later, invincible in the way that only old guys who brazenly stuff their potbellies into Spandex can be.
They are kooks.
And that is awesome.
Yes, awesome.
A KOOK BY ANY OTHER NAME…You have seen them, these riders with the body armor on the outside of their jerseys, their helmets tilted back upon their heads, a five inch gap of pale flesh ribboned between knee pad and hem of their too-short shorts. Or maybe you’ve seen their cousins, the road kooks. Either way, kooks get a bad rap. Dismissed by cooler riders as some kind of leper plague of the uncool, our kook brethren are scorned. How could anyone look so lame? How could they ride so feebly and artlessly? They are not cyclists.
Bullshit.
First, let’s begin with the simple notion that calling another rider a “Kook” is usually a matter of the pot calling the kettle black. You might be more skilled and fit than the rider you accuse of vile kookery, but odds are you were recently passed by someone who shook their head and mumbled “Kook” as they dropped you.
There is
always someone fitter, faster, more steezy and flat-out cooler than you. Life is a spectrum and you sit somewhere on it. While you may think you are comfortably ensconced on the “rad” side of that continuum, trust me, there’s someone else who thinks your place in the universe is far, far away in Kookville.
Are you or are you not currently paid to ride a bicycle because millions of viewers have deemed your riding abilities to be dope beyond belief? If not, it pays to be judicious with your judgments.
But hell, for the sake of argument, let’s suppose you really
are lodged firmly amongst the elite in your cycling tribe. It’s still worth bearing in mind that today’s “rad” is invariably tomorrow’s “lame as shit”.
There was a time when Lycra body condoms, thirteen-inch wide handlebars and 180-millimeter stems were The Shit. We can look back at all that now and snicker at how very kook all of that was. At the time, however, it was state-of-the-art awesome. If you weren’t rocking a pair of orange-anodized Caramba Double Barrel cranks and racing in the Elite class at the major cross-country events, you were a kook. Plain and simple.
So, this kook thing….it’s capriciously relative. Something to bear in mind before scoffing at those who you deem pudgier, slower or less rad than yourself.
KOOKS KEEP THE WORLD GOING ROUNDWhen you discover something and fall in love with it, it’s tempting to try and keep it all to yourself—to draw a narrow line around this thing which divides you and it from the kooks. You find a tribe of people you like and you accept them on your side of the line. They are worthy of this thing you love. The kooks? Not so much.
Maybe you’ve never done the above, but I’ve been guilty of it and I’m certainly not alone. There are plenty of people in our community who scorn the kooks and the Freds for stinking up the joint. And yet, if we want more trails, if we want safer roads, if we want high-school mountain bike teams….we need more people to ride and to become advocates for riding. We need as many people as possible demanding that land managers open trails to riders. We need as many people as we can get, volunteering to build and maintain trails. We need the citizenry to be up in arms when city planners construct new roads that are unsafe to ride on.
In other words, we can scoff at those less cool than ourselves, but we’re better off because they are here. Each and every one of them. There is power in numbers. We need the kooks.
I watch the kooks in my café, as they argue heatedly over which one of them is the leanest and who has notched the most Strava KOMs on his belt. Right now, in fact, one is bragging about how much of a deal he scored on his new bib shorts. While I don’t want to ride with these guys, I silently tip my hat to them.
Long live the kooks.
MENTIONS:
@vernonfelton
On any given Sunday you can find me squeezed into poorly fitted team kit. I have all the gear, I have a gopro filming my mediocre performances and a GPS unit on my bars carefully recording my times for Strava review later, as I drink a Guatemalan coffee or a craft beer.
I am in the enviable position that I can afford some of the nicer things for my bike. Maybe even a titanium bolt or two. I know I probably look ridiculous.
And I do look enviously on people with more style than me. People who seem to be able to have a down to earth, cool style with carefully picked out mismatched components and clothing. But as hard as I try I like the colour orange and blue so that is what I wear.
But I am friendly. I stop and fix other peoples punctures, I repair peoples bikes out of my own pocket, I give people my spares and I attend to the trail side injuries I so often come across. I will chat and listen to people as I ride or on the little stops. Discuss where they have ridden and where they recommend. I pull out of the way if I know people are coming and apologise if I didn't hear them. I am happy to go a bit slower on the trail if someone slower than me is in front (but in all honesty I would appreciate people being a bit more mindful at times)
I'm just out there to have fun and try and lose some f*cking weight. Because I am fat. But I do like those craft beers
And two Kooks equals to a none, right?
BTW I run black only, but beer, latte and criossants send me to the 'heavy' side of scale too
....no i cant
craft beer fo life!
Somebody out there going "I can be like that guy, someday."
Get after it. You're doing it right.
Since many of them are professionals, do a cost-benefit analysis: Benefit = 0.5 seconds/km in a head wind Cost = scaring the general public with your multi-coloured spanx.
Nah... I was bmx'in then
(yes, my name is Fred) =(
I have to be honest though in that I've rarely come across much in the way of issues out on the trail. One of the things that make me love Mtb so much is the attitude of other riders. New or old, posh bike or junk - is anyone that bothered? When i was new to the sport and had a mechanical someone stopped and offered help. I've no doubt the other guy thought something along the lines of kook but I'll never forget that. How many other sports are like that? I now make a point of doing the same.
1. It is what I have worn for the last 25 years of riding and don't give a rip.
2. A pair of baggies over some sort of padded breif/lycra is too darned hot. (I base this on extensive research with a sample size of one.)
3. I don't own a mirror.
4. With my friends busy throwing up, I can keep up and even occasionally ahead.
With maturity sometimes comes the strength to accept weakness and the experience to know what you don't know. I retaught myself to ski this year after a twenty year absence from snow sports and it was interesting to learn to be comfortable doing something I believed I sucked at. I believe the humbling and openness to my weakness from that dramatically improved my mountain biking this year. I was more comfortable being aware of my endless areas for improvement.
I honour the kooks for doing what they want with minimal f$%^ given to their status as perceived by majority group. In the end, being a kook has more to do with status than skill or enjoyment. Well written Vernon! I look forward to more ramblings from the pain cave.
@WAKIdesigns: I would need way more info to diagnose. Important to remember that the whole point of diagnosis should be to organize treatment. Whatever the diagnosis, I would hope it is nothing that couldn't be solved with more biking, sunshine, connection with others and a bit of self acceptance (last one too hippy?). All the best man.
Individuals with Sprocket Induced-Sociopathy often violate the laws of physics becoming airborn criminals. They may lie, behave violently or impulsively, and have problems with drug and alcohol use. Because of these characteristics, people with this disorder typically can't fulfill responsibilities related to family, work or school.
Have a great day
Heeeeelp meeeeeee
Love the kook.
The other day I saw one at Kokopellis trails around 9:30 am. He was wearing a colorful fox jersey about 3 sizes too small, his bulbous gut hitting the top tube. His saddle looked too low, not that I could actually see it; and I'd rather not think about it. Camelback all crooked and he was working hard and he groaned a bit as I said hi.
If you saw him at Starbucks you might think him a Kook.
I passed him going the other direction about 45 minutes out; halfway, on a moderate loop. He was the only other rider I saw that morning; because the forecast was for 104.
Careful who you call a Kook.
I couldn't give a rats ass what anyone else thinks of me.
I also celebrate the k00ks that surround me from time to time.
These are people who aren't caught up in the idea of what is socially accepted as being "cool"..
f*ck that, the cool kids were always sheeple, always trying to be their own version of the same thing.
Don't change baby - you are beautiful!!!
These days I get my gravity kicks at Highland, and one of the things I love about the place is the distinct lack of attitude. Mark Hayes knows that to keep the lift spinning means one thing: growing the sport. Producing the Claymore Challenge, which is about as far from kooks as you can get, didn't accomplish that. Getting new riders out on bikes does. School kids, boy scouts, families, women's programs. I love to see beginners out there. I've introduced more than a few folks to riding park there, and to see their faces, the moment they've reconnected with the feeling of riding bikes they'd not felt since being a kid. If that means they're kooks, then I'll be one, too, cuz that's why I ride. I like my kit, and my high-end bike I've cobbled together from various parts that have a tendency to be upgraded as soon as I have a few extra bucks. Though I love watching the spread of our sport more. And unlike waves, the mountains are always there. Just add some shovels and sweat...
Surf Nazis suck.
Each to their own. At least those dudes understand that all good rides end with beers.
I took a friends brother out who had never ridden a mountain bike in his life. We rode some easy single track and did a few little flowy things. Thats exactly what he looked like. Eerie.
That is... Unless you are Brandon Semunuk. Aka Steeze lord.
I may chuckle at someone's getup at times (like the guy on the trail wearing full hockey pads above the waist, but he was kind of cross-eyed and probably made a good decision).
But I will never understand the Lycra thing.
Oh geez, I guess I am a Fred. But a pretty hardcore Fred if I do say so myself.
I love it.
Firstly because I'm now at that age where I give absolutely zero f**ks about what anybody thinks.
Secondly because its awesome to show up at the bike park on my 29-er and school at least 80% of the cool kids.
"Great Minds Discuss Ideas; Average Minds Discuss Events; Small Minds Discuss People"
And the funny thing is - most humans find other humans to be the most interesting things around.
How about we all just wear whatever the hell we like and don't worry about what everyone else wears? Or is that too much like being an adult? Are you riders, or fashionistas?
Next read: "Anything smaller than 160mm and steeper than 68deg., considered kook's gear"
Surfers know all about this-dealing with the kooks on vacation.
Never heard anybody say kook before