Editor Note: This Sunday will be the release of a new Austin bike zine, The Dropout (also on Facebook here.). This monthly cycling rag will seek to spotlights the people and the businesses that make the Austin bike culture thrive. On Sunday evening, there will be a release party for The Dropout with free beer, raffle tickets for prizes when you buy the magazine, a pedicab photo booth, foot down competition and DJ spinning tunes. The party starts at 7 PM at Fast Folks, 2513 A E 6th St.

The Dropout will be available at local bike shops, cafés, and restaurants starting November 1 for the low cost of $5. As a preview, we have an article below from Issue #1 to whet your appetite. Please support this endeavour and pick up a copy.

The Zone

By Bob Farr

Picture this. You’re completely exhausted after hours of cycling miles spinning through previously unexplored (to you, at least) places on this earth. Hands aching from hours of handlebar clinging, you realize the hotfoot problem with the left shoe has turned the whole lower leg against you. Somehow that foot is both throbbing and numb, all at the same instant. The right foot is beginning to feel a similar burn and you grimace. At least the pain will be symmetric!

Reaching into a pocket for that last nugget of energy bar you discover nothing but torn and empty wrappings. Wonderful! You’ve got an empty tank and an unfulfilled desire to be finished with this ride. You’re lost in the wilderness.

Try to focus on more attainable goals — like grinding up this one hill in front of you right now, and then the next, and the next… a suffering pilgrimage while scrabbling on bleeding knees toward the promise of salvation. You slog onward through the miles, food and comfort a distant notion.

Suddenly, a beam of sunlight blinks through the fog and onto your face, pulling you from a trance state. The scene has just reached out and handed you a pair of 3D glasses. But this is reality. Inexplicably, the pain is gone. Descending over sweeping ribbons of asphalt turns illuminated in spring sunbeam green canopy, the moment becomes perfection. You’re in overdrive and cycling is effortless.

Seconds before everything was about agony and enduring an awful experience. But now the present tense is the place to be. Nothing else matters. It’s about you, your bike, the crisp air, a moment on this planet, and the gift of life.

Spinning effortlessly, you push a gear lever. The chain falls solidly two cogs toward light speed. Rising smoothly out of the saddle you hammer easily up the next incline. Feels like a tailwind! Then the next hill. Whatever happened, suddenly you’re strong and refreshed.

You’ve forgotten all about the suffering. For a moment — just a moment — there’s a realization that this experience has been served up just for you. A glimpse of perfection for your personal consumption alone. Nobody else. Just you and a taste of bliss.