They require quite a bit of disassembly including handlebars, seat post, pedals, rear derailler, and wheels. I am using the 50 Lb weight imposed by the airlines as the weight limit here. This case, as I suspect is the trico and others like them, are heavy. Their downsides, however, is that depending on the model they may not be as protective of a bike and wheels inside. For the soft cases, the obvious pro are all the contrary to the hard case. The major downsides are that they are extremely bulky, difficult to carry by hand and in most vehicles, poorly mobility, requires a lot of room to store, and weight/size requiring large airline fees. The obvious pro of a hard case is the ability to take a beating with low risk of it breaking. I first had the debate of hard Vs soft case. I am also including a couple I considered and the common conclusions I gathered from several people that have used them first hand several times. It makes no sense, because there was no one more full of life than Jerry Butler.Having just come back from traveling to the French Alps for 2 weeks, I find myself in the good position to offer some personal opinion and review on several bike cases I had the chance to compare first hand. I first met him a few years ago, and within minutes he was stripped down to the waist to show me his physique, before dropping to the floor and challenging me to a press-up contest. I know a losing bet when I see one, and so declined. Jerry’s only complaint that day was that I wasn’t filming the interview. He’d traveled across Brooklyn on his bike (he traveled everywhere on his bike), and arrived almost two hours early for our meeting. As I approached to greet him, he shouted, “Hey, do you wanna see my beaver?” as he threw a stuffed beaver towards me before I could answer. He’d call breathlessly from the gym (Me: “Jerry, what on earth are you doing?” Jerry: “I’m benching 250!”), or with his mouth full (Me: “Jerry, what on earth are you doing?” Jerry: “Cheese and ham omelette with fries!”) Thereafter I’d hear from Jerry on a regular basis. Last Thursday, I drove out to his funeral in Brooklyn, and his death didn’t make sense to anyone there either.Īpparently he’d had a tumor removed successfully a while ago. Then, a few months later, he was knocked off his bike. He wasn’t badly injured, but he was taken to hospital for routine tests. There the doctors found that the cancer had spread throughout his body, including his pancreas. It was inoperable.Īt the funeral, there was a sense of bewilderment. Family members sat with friends in near silence. Former hockey player friends, broad-shouldered, taciturn, granite-like men in their 50s, shook their heads quietly. Jerry’s sister, Linda, held everything together, generous in greeting and thanking everyone individually who was in attendance.Īpart from Cathy Tavel, the co-writer of Jerry’s 1989 tell-all autobiography, Raw Talent, no one from the adult film industry was there.Ĭathy remembered that interviewing Jerry was like trying lasso a wild horse with freshly-cooked spaghetti. He was incapable of sitting still, talked manically, ran around the room, binged on Oreos, and paused for a moment only to dry-hump her as she took notes. I remembered a similar experience when I recorded our podcast interview with him.Īt the funeral, Cathy was wearing a t-shirt that Jerry had made for her.
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