as President Emeritus and founder of the Profile Design Cup Holders Club this would be featured on my twitter instagram horseshit to fulfill my contract agreements to place the product prominently 17 or more times per month if I had a contract or any kind of sponsorship...but in fact I have one or two of these cages on all of my bikes because they hold a cup of coffee as well as a tallboy as well as a roadmaster as well as an actual water bottle and it's not because I'm talking the talk it's because I'm walking the walk slowly up hill both ways
The passage of time personified. A little living breathing calendar that only gets bigger. A kid that is. All up in your face they just keep growing. For me ages 22-42 were kind of a blur on the north end of the I-5 corridor a gelatinous mass of memories low level jobs housemates studio apartments and singlespeed conversions. Then a kid came along and showed me the way time passes differently. Relativity in rain boots. Look away for a day and they’ve grown some more.
I know that kid. Six years ago he was in kindergarten. Six years from now he’ll be in college
Pushing my bike up the hill in the 98118 single speededly because I’m in no hurry because I’m not too proud to walk because paper-boying a hill just to avoid walking is so so so much more than six years ago came upon this sign in the grass took a photo sent this text to SteveG “can’t decide if I should text a photo or just steal the fucking sign” then 25 feet later came upon another sign and that one ended up in my bag for the ride home taken out of context and put back in the right tool for the job you can order any foo foo espresso drink you want as long as it’s a hammer
I haven’t put on an alley cat race for 18 years but if I did one today it would include this stop - South Spokane Street at Hahn Place South - the checkpoint to fuck up all checkpoints. Route yourself accordingly. There will be no smartphones, no GPS, no Strava. Good old fashioned paper maps are OK and hard-earned experience and knowledge of local geography are even better. Google maps can’t solve all your problems and the satellite images don’t clue you in on secret stairways and handy elevators.
I haven’t registered a domain name for a website in 13 years but if I did one today I hope it wouldn’t take 10 days for the customer service reps to figure it out. This site was suspended for a while because the domain name needed ICANN certification and I guess they warned me of the approaching deadline by emailing email@example.com which made me laugh almost as much as hearing a customer service rep say “dickstank at AOL dot com” in a polite British accent. dickstank? AOL? What year is this? How did I get here? As far as I can tell ICANN is just some dude in sweatpants watching Sportscenter and eating pizza pockets while the money rolls in. certification my ass but I do appreciate the emails and texts from the 5 people that noticed the site disappeared
I haven’t been a first-day-on-the-job-rookie bike messenger for exactly 20 years but if I was one today I’d probably be overthinking my wardrobe choices and I'd definitely not be drinking enough water
this reminds me of Seth and it also of Chris Murray and Chris always reminds me of RAGBRAI and if you've never heard of RAGBRAI it might as well be an acronym that stands for riding BMX bikes at night in bunny costumes with hooded sweatshirts. Yesterday Alistair sent me this link to something that I most likely never would have discovered myself and it's actually a great intro to RAGBRAI and what it's all about from an interesting vantage point. Ten or Eleven years ago I caught a glimpse or two or Lance on his first RAGBRAI but mostly I just saw the pack of people and the camera crews following him or leading him out and I never got that close
digging through my photographic memory for a shot of Lance I found THIS shot from RAGBRAI 2006
that's the bike that now lives next door to me
that's the bike I recently hacked the handlebars off of
this kid has been on a balance bike for years including this glorified balance bike until last weekend when she put the pedals back on and took off shredding alleys and derelict tennis courts at the edge of town deep in the 98118 and 98178. one set of courts has not seen tennis since Reagan was in the white house the other set still has nets up but sees mostly beer cans and fireworks and off-leash dogs and kids on bikes. at the Bike Summit in Oly last month where I got that fucking ditty bag I also got to see a presentation from a designer at Alta about the traffic garden in White Center that opened late last year on what used to be a set of tennis courts.
now all we need is $100,000 to transform the courts down in Rainier Beach
this was the most read article in the New York Times last year and with all the horseshit that happened in 2016, that's reason enough to take a look but there are some other reasons it's worthwhile too and if you're ready to explore a bit more there's more out there
Steve G sent me these photos of ye olde Cannondale that made its way across Iowa more than a few times and recently rolled into Bike Works.
those in the know know but it case you don't have the secret decoder ring it's important to work a little RAGBRAI into your day-to-day living. a taste of Iowa (50112) right here in this zipcode (98118) if that means buying a six pack of tall boys and sitting in the shade across from the beer store or if that means wearing your official RAGBRAI merchandise to work 51 weeks out of the year or if that means riding a tandem with a blowup doll strapped on the stoker seat whatever works works
a couple years later call me maybe. a new wheel set. two water bottles. a frame bag. new grips. seat post. saddle bag. I'm not a big accessories fan. keep it simple. but this bike wants to ride across Iowa and I don't want to have anything in my pockets or on my back or in some crazy canadian fanny pack. let the tool do the work.
can you find 14 differences between these two photos? the dream of the 90s is alive in Rainier Beach. I know a guy that knows a guy who's wife dropped this bike in my garage and said "can you tune it up?" and I thought "are you fucking kidding me?" but I said "how do you feel about those handlebars?" I'm pretty sure I can make this bike a bit more comfortable for every day just riding along and I pulled a few parts out of my back pocket and slapped them on and when I say a few I mean a riser bar thumb shifters brake levers el diablos a smaller chainring and cables & housing and a 27.2 post to replace the 27.0 that was in there with the binder bolt mashed to the max bottomed out and then she said she wants to pull a kid trailer around the neighborhood and it's all downhill from here so she wants some low low low gears and I said "I don't have all that in my back pocket right now"... but it is possible with a triple crank up front then change the BB spindle length and of course the front derailleur and the rear derailleur and the cassette too and toss in a new chain or you could just buy a used mountain bike and could I interest you in a lock? lights? a helmet? fenders? a rack? bottle cages? a computer? a bell? gloves? a jacket? a cycling cap? frame pump? tire levers? a patch kit? multi-tool? saddle bag?
Dr 37 Mike was in the house today when he paid a visit to HQ with the family as you can see in the photo he's just this side of the JIS screwdriver he gave me and just right of the poster from Whatcom County and if I was on twitter this would be so seven hours ago
You say tomato. I say scrunchie. You say wrist coil key holder. I say whatever, you know what I mean. I used to ride a bike a lot and I used to lock and unlock my bike a lot. A lot a lot. So much so that I suffered from phantom ass pocket U lock syndrome for many months after I turned back into a plain old bike commuter. As a messenger I tried many tricky tricks and strings and things to keep track of my key. After messing around with a bunch of silly contraptions I finally settled on the 89 cent wrist coil and stuck with it. These colorful coils were often available free in a big cookie jar at Perkins Coie reception or they could be purchased at a huge mark-up from a locksmith on Capitol Hill. These coils vary in quality and elasticity. Some would never spring back when the temperature dropped below 40. Some lasted two weeks. Some lasted two months. But the one I had until yesterday lasted over 7 years. Seven fucking years for 89 cents.
It seems silly to trust a cheap ass piece of plastic with the key to your ride. But it works. It worked for me and it still does until it doesn’t. Yesterday when I was drinking a cup of coffee and I heard a clang when some keys hit the floor and I thought somebody chucked their keys at me until I realized they were my keys and my scrunchie broke.
One day yesteryear I was standing in line at the Broadway post office when Art KnR handed me my scrunchie and key. He found it on the ground next to my locked up bike where I dropped it when I took off my gloves. Thanks Art.
Another day in the late 90s I rode up and down Second Avenue retracing all my stops looking for my scrunchie. After about 30 minutes of zigzagging around I reached...