SPAMMERS fuck off.

I've gotten a ton of spam comments at this blog.

I'm tired of them, and tired of having to delete each one.

(Blogger will only allow me to remove comments, NOT to block spammers.)

No, I'm not interested in your get-rich-quick schemes.

So if you want to SPAM I will post your handle here and shame you until you stop.

Spammers, fuck off. 

 

Bicycle Concierge service in Portland

Portland friends: Now that I am retired and looking for things to do, I'd like to offer this:

If you or someone you love is in the market for a bicycle this spring, I would be happy to accompany you on your search.

If it's a used bike, I can go along and quietly point out what it would need to get up and running again.

If it's new and in a bike shop, I can help you narrow down your choices based on what kind of riding you do, so you won't feel so overwhelmed.

No charge.

However, if you'd like to enjoy lunch and conversation afterwards, that would be truly lovely.

PM me.

And happy riding!

(Photo: Benson Bubbler, ca. 1914. Oregon Historical Society.)

 

Onward.

The end of an era.

Today, I rehomed the All-Rounder with a really nice fellow from the Coffee Outside gang.

It has been a truly lovely bike and I’ve had many wonderful miles with it. And these days, I’m too arthritic to swing my leg over easily and I just don’t ride big miles anymore. So I’m not sad at all.

The bike will continue to be ridden and enjoyed for many years to come, a testament to the quality and durability of this CroMoly steel frameset and the wheels I’ve built and rebuilt over the years.

And I couldn’t be happier about it.

Onward.

A new friend on a cold day

It’s the little things.

This unbelievably sweet kitty wanted to sit in everyone’s lap this morning at Coffee Outside. For a few minutes, it was my turn. He made my morning.

Don't be sad! I'm still riding, and I'm keeping this lovely bike.

The response to yesterday's post was surprising. People reached out to ask if I was dying.

I am not dying. At least not yet, and hopefully not for awhile.

What I AM doing is simplifying my life, and letting go of the excess.

Here's what I'm keeping, and hope to ride for a long while to come.

So relax. Please.

The end of the road for my bicycle ego: Goodbye Rivvy, and thanks for all the miles.

I spent the last couple of years considering the future of my relationship with bicycle riding. 
While I still enjoy it, the truth is that I don't enjoy it nearly as much since I got sick. I'm lucky if I can get out on a bike once a week now. 
Between the fatigue, the dizziness and balance realities and my increasing arthritis, that fact is that I simply don't live a bicycle-centric life anymore, and I haven't in some time. 
Aging will do that. Illness will speed up the process a bit. 
Plus, between the two bikes I have, only one of them is actually comfortable to ride anymore.

So this afternoon, I reached out to an old bike industry friend whom I respect and trust, and asked him if he'd be interested in helping me sell my Rivendell All-Rounder. I'm not expecting a miraculous return on my investment at this point; the used bike market is in the toilet and I've had many years and miles on this good old frameset. But he and I agreed that, being a Rivendell, it will attract some interest and he sees no difficulty in finding a new home for it, especially since spring is right around the corner and it's the best time for bike sales.

I've invited him to pick a day near the end of this month to come and collect the bike, plus most of my remaining parts and shop tools. I'll keep some basics on hand for my own needs, but if I go down to one bike I won't need much more than a couple of freewheels, some chains and tubes, and a few sets of brake shoes to see me out.

I'll keep the Peugeot for as long as I'm able to keep riding a bicycle. The lower top tube, lower Q-factor and overall comfort make it a good choice for the kind of riding I'll do going forward. 

I'll probably hold back the Carradice Camper LF bag awhile longer, if only to have a larger saddlebag to swap in to handle groceries. Between that and the front rack bag I ought to have enough capacity for what I choose to carry on a bike. Even if my health miraculously improves enough for me to do one more S24HO ride (with the overnight being on someone's couch), the Peugeot will be more than enough. 

 I can already hear friends and family saying, "Noooo!" 

But the truth is that I simply don't need a really fine, fancy bike any longer. Hanging onto this one makes no sense for the kind of riding I'm able to do now, and letting this be someone else's responsibility -- and ego trip -- just feels right to me now. I've proven everything that I possibly can on and about bicycles in this life, and I feel relieved to have arrived at the right time to move this bike along.

When the bike is cleaned up and tuned up and ready for primetime, probably some time in March, I'll send up a flare about where it can be found in Portland. 

(This very old photo doesn't reflect what the bike will look like when it's on consignment!)

 

The ebike revolution is a myth. Maybe it should stay that way.

The story about an abrupt closure of a local ebike dealer has sparked yet another discussion about how much sense ebikes make, and how the ebike revolution would be asesome if only more people would buy in, or something like that.

The problem is that ebikes are simply not as sustainable as ordinary, human-powered bikes. In our current manufacturing, recycling and fiscal landscape, they can't be.

When you can buy a cheap ordinary bike and fix it up for a fraction of the cost of buying an ebike, and the ebike market is fraught with uncertainty, why buy an ebike? 

People want ebikes because they want to be able to live carfree and travel without breaking a sweat. You can't have it both ways.
Ebikes do allow you to transport more cargo, and they do allow you to travel farther and up steeper hills, but that doesn't necessarily make them a better alternative.

They cost a lot more than a regular bicycle. They cost more to maintain. Transit systems don't allow them on the bike racks of their buses because they're too heavy, and some don't allow them on trains because of the danger of a battery meltdown in close proximity to passengers.

And while you see lots of them zipping around Portland, they are mostly seen in nicer neighborhoods, closer in to town, where there are more people living who can afford to own, maintain and store them. Go east of 122nd Avenue and watch the number of ebikes on the road fall. East Multnomah County is where all the poor people got pushed when the rents went up close in 15-20 years ago. If they're working, they can barely afford the cheap, decaying apartments they live in. They sure as hell can't afford an ebike, and if they somehow manage to obtain one they can't store it securely. Few apartments have secure storage, and some ap[artments won't allow you to keep a regular bike in your apartment. Even if you get past all of these barriers, an ebike is just too damned heavy to sneak up the stairs. 

Hell, you can buy a cheap used car and get it running again for less than the price of some ebikes. 

People in the comments section of the article linked above are complaining about the sudden closure of an ebike shop, and some are lamenting that they'd expected to see an ebike "revolution" by now.

I don't think such a revolution is coming. Certainly not here in the US. 

Most urban areas of US cities are too big and spread out for even the most efficient ebikes to make sense. Public transit has never been as popular or well-supported here as it is in smaller, more dense European cities. Bicycle infrastructure barely exists at all in many big US cities, and if the current regime has its way that won't change. 

How do we live with an unfavorable reality? We adapt.

We adjust our expectations and find ways to live within the limitations set by other forces.
That is what I have done for over fifty years, living as I have in a city with steep hills (dead volcanoes, mostly) and limitations on where public transit goes.
I still ride an "analog" bike. I don't ride it as often, as fast or as fast as I used to, and I've had to adjust accordingly with age. But when I become too old and infirm to ride it anymore, I will not switch to an ebike. In the US, trying to build a life around ebiking is a Faustian bargain. Even if you can afford all of the costs of purchase and maintenance (and let's be honest -- for most people, that means paying someone else to fix it), there's still the longer-term question of supply of ebikes and batteries, and the sustainability of the entire enterprise.
At least I live in a city with better public transit than most (though with the present round of budget cuts and fiscal re-prioritizing, that could change).

Maybe things will improve enough that ebikes become ubiquitous one day, but I don't we'll see that anytime soon, at least here in the US. 

Ebikes are cool and interesting and they can even be fun, but they won't revolutionize transportation in this country.

(Photo: me, in my younger, more heroic days. I rode this Surly Big Dummy eleven miles round trip twice a week with my guitar, battling bad bike infrstructure and entitled motorists the whole way. After a few years, I decided my rattled nerves and excessive fatigue simply weren't worth the risk, especially during Portland's rainy season. I sold the Big Dummy and took my guitar on transit. I got over my sadness, and carried on.)