For too long, parcel delivery in Northern Tasmania has been the domain of un-ecological and very unhip Ford Transit van owners. It is with great pride and smugness that I introduce a new way. Send a parcel anywhere in Tasmania, and be guaranteed of it arriving dripping with green urban street cred, thanks to Dr. Behooving Bike Fakenger. Prompt service, reasonable rates and a 50/50 chance of your parcel reaching the rightful recipient and not being left on the roadside after an ambulance has come to take me elsewhere. All procedes reinvested in tattoos for my legs and learn-to-smoke classes.
Which is a roundabout way of saying, I have finally turned my old track bike into a “fixie” with obligatory brakes and Brooks leather grip tape. So far I’m just riding it around the schoolyard with my sons, wondering how the hell anyone could do a track stand or lock up the rear wheel. I’ve never raced track, and after watching this film by some friends of mine in Rotterdam, feel no pressing desire to start any time soon. I’m quite content just polishing hubs and riding about the basketball court with my kids— unless of course you have a parcel.