So far, the history of bike handlebars has not been spiced with the tang of sex appeal. On the road side, we got drops, aeros, tape. On mountain, bar ends, no bar ends, bolt grips, and carbon. But now, in a stroke of absolute brilliance, Cinelli has commissioned legendary San Francisco artist and tattoo god Mike Giant to create what’s likely the world’s first handlebar-as-art/art-as-handlebar and the coolest set of drops ever.

Cinelli’s Ram2 bars have played around with illustration — leopards, spiders, bulls — but they’ve had a cheesy Euro vibe, unlike the decidedly American Giant model. They’re made of carbon, of course, and have a stem angle of 85 degrees and fit 1 1/8-inch fork. They’re available to pre-order here and will be shipped in November, but no price was announced. Brace yourself: Plain old Ram2’s are north of $600.

If you’re a fan of Mike Giant but don’t have the budgy for bars that cost twice as much as my first mountain bike, try his bar tape. Info here, pic below.

Via.

Andrea Dorfman paints a love letter to cycling…a time lapse, a video, a film…an inspiring bit of creativity that must be watched. Why ride your bike? Says Dorfman, “If feeling alive isn’t enough, I’ll tell you right now — you’ll also receive a gift that will unfurrow your brow. It’s the answer to your puzzle that keeps you up all night long, the ending to your story, the words to your song.”

Click play and watch as Andy paints a wonderful little tableaux that goes dark, then leaves you with hope…then go play…outside…on your bike.

A few months ago, I was in the desert with a friend who’s a primitive skills expert and as we were walking along he showed me how to find water where there didn’t seem to be any, to make rope from vegetation, and to use grass to lasso a lizard for protein (surprisingly easy, once you find the lizard). With each new discovery of the utility around me, the world felt more familiar, more like a home, and me at the right place in it. I can only image–well, dream–what the woods of Quebec felt like to César Newashish, a Native Canadian and the subject of this quiet, wonderful 1971 documentary from director Bernard Gosselin.

It starts with the felling of a tree, and from there Newashish builds a canoe by hand using only the materials provided by the forest: birch bark, cedar strips, spruce roots, and gum. It is a kind of meditation, lacking in narration or dialog, only a few simple titles for explanation, but it doesn’t need more because what’s unfolding is too elemental for something as modern as words. It’s the timeless story of man grown to be at home in his world.

If it sounds a bit zennish, perhaps it is, but that shouldn’t scare you. Nor should the 58-minute running length. I suggest watching it in segments–but once I started it was hard to stop. Few of us have the luxury (or desire) of watching an hour documentary on our computers, but in some ways that’s precisely the lesson of César’s Bark Canoe. We chase after the latest shiny thing like a chocolate lab after a summer butterfly, but all it gets us is desire for the next shiny thing. To slow down and give yourself to something in the manner of an Attikamek Indian who can build a boat from a tree and an ax, well, that’s what it takes to be at home in the natural world.

Via Best Made Projects.

In honor of International Surfing Day, here’s a freaking amazing little surfing video put together by Karim Rejeb, a French-Dutch skate park builder living in the south of France. Called Lino, short for linoleum, it documents a tribe of wave-hungry Lego people. Yep, Lego people. Click now. Cause if it hasn’t blown up yet, it will. At more than seven minutes long, you have to be a pretty hardcore Lego surfer to watch it all the way through, but it’s worth duck-diving in.

Lino took Rejeb three months to make, working mostly alone, shoot stop motion at one frame at a time to get 15 frames per second, using his son’s Legos. Surfbang interviewed him a few days ago. Here are a few Qs and As:

What inspired you to make Lino?
Like many of us, I loved to play with the lego dudes as kid. I just kept on as I grew older. Making the video was just an excuse. As soon as I don’t surf, I need to get my toys shacked. That feels so good.

What were the hardest parts?
The hardest part was for my little family. My girlfriend has to endure that I’m a big kid and sneak my son’s toys. Other ways, climbing up the dune, giving the lego a five millimeters push, running down, taking a photo, climbing up again, giving it a five mil push, running down, shooting it, climb… To get my fifteen shots per second, it’s a lot of up-and-down and at the end of the day it’s a lot of work because I mostly work alone .

The other hard thing is to find the right speed for the image linking to get the movements as natural as possible. Details are always very important, like the positioning of the head and arms.

How did you do the parts where the lego guy was boosting airs?
I would like to keep that secret because I ‘m still working to improve the technique. All I can say is that it is psycho work indeed. No special effects software or anything. It’s all manual.

Where is your favorite surf break in the world?
When I was seventeen I went to the Canary Islands for a month trip. I liked it so much that I stayed there five years. I like to travel in total immersion of the local life style. Usually I get myself into extreme situations like, getting lost in the jungle of Borneo, driving three days three nights nonstop in a Mexican desert, struggling to escape from a remote Pacific Ocean island where a clan loved me so much that they wanted me to stay and live their way forever. I would’ve ended up sitting there with the other elders, my almost naked body covered with tattoos, drinking cava and arguing about the tribal laws if I stayed.

Last time I went on a trip I left home for about three years around the world. South East Asia, Australia, New-Zealand, Western Samoa, French Polynesia, California, Mexico, Africa. French Polynesia was epic.

Honestly though, my favorite surf break is at home in France on a good winter swell with the mates.

Read the entire interview with Rejeb at Surfbang here.

If your idea of outside art is oil paintings of western landscapes or ginormous glossy prints of grizzlies catching salmon in the air, it’s time to recalibrate. There’s so much contemporary art set in, around, and about the outdoors, it’s ridiculous. And one place to find good, affordable art is The Working Proof.

TWP is a brilliant idea. Well, it’s more than idea–it’s an idea that was turned into action, which turned into a small but significant force for good. The Working Proof brings together artists with causes. Buy a piece of art, a percentage goes to the artist’s cause. You get art, they get a little support, the cause moves forward. Like I said, brilliant.

The Working Proof doesn’t focus exclusively on outside art, but every once in a while something pops up, and that’s the case now with a fun print from Rich Gemmell called ‘Falls’. Gemmell, who lives in the U.K. in Chambershire, was inspired by a trip through Scotland, where he watched kayakers playing in a waterfall at the base of Ben Nevis. Gemmell’s designated non-profit is Transportation Alternatives, which is working in New York City to “increase non-polluting, quiet, city-friendly travel and decrease–not ban–private car use.”

Said Gemmell, “I created this piece with Transportation Alternatives in mind. I love the idea of this being someone’s morning route to work – instead of traffic jams and exhaust fumes he is traveling to work down the river in an environmentally friendly kayak. The original image was a mixture of pencil lines, ink washes and digital elements.”

‘Falls” is available from TWP as a digital print on 8.5×11 paper. It’s $30, with 15 percent of the gross going to Transportation Alternatives. And if you’re wondering, yes, I bought one. 42 left–get on it, Adventure Life peeps!

See more of Gemmell’s work below or at www.richgemmell.com.