Dirty Words: Zinn There, Haven’t Done That But I’ll Get Around To It Someday
Photo and words by Sal Ruibal
I saw that Lennard Zinn has recently updated his best-selling book “Zinn & the Art of Road Bike Maintenance,” the world’s most helpful and comprehensive guide to bicycle repair and maintenance.
I’ve met Lennard Zinn and rode with him in Italy for about two seconds while two Japanese journalists and I slowly cranked our way up a very long and steep road outside of Turin. His name makes the same sound a very fast bike makes as it catches and passes you: lennardzzzzinnnnnnnnn!
Lennard Zinn is an impressive man who really knows what he’s talking about when it comes to bikes. He is the cycling equivalent of that Mexican beer guy who is the most interesting man in the world, except that Lennard Zinn really is the world’s most helpful and comprehensive human when it comes to bicycle repair and maintenance.
By comparison, I am the world’s least helpful and comprehensive guide to the repair and maintenance of anything beyond a small refrigerator full of Belgian beer and Slim-Jims. By inviting my mechanically-inclined friends over for beer and 7-Eleven meat products, I can induce them to work on my bikes for free. Granted, they also lack the world’s most helpful and comprehensive skills. My chain smells like beef jerky after they’ve worked on it and they smell like beer.
Lennard Zinn lives in Boulder, Coloradough, home of the U.S. Bureau of Strava Statistics and the repository of the most cool things in the world, including a guy’s frozen head awaiting revival.
Boulder and Brooklyn are now the most helpful and comprehensive areas of the U.S. for bicycle repair and maintenance. Austin used to be helpful and comprehensive but lost its coolness because, well, you know.
I wish that I was the most helpful and comprehensive person about something, but I have a short attention span and an even shorter inseam. Lennard Zinn must ride a frame in the mid-60s, upper-70s in the summer months.
Alas, my name will never have a cool sound as I ride my bike. Salrooble-salrooble-salrooble is the sound a flat back tire makes as you try to make it home before the whole she-bang peels off the rim.
Buy Lennard Zinn’s book and give it to someone you can bribe with dried meats and beer when you need helpful and comprehensive repair and maintenance. But if you are just looking to make people smile, ride down the street singing salrooble-salrooble-salrooble.
Hey, it works for me.