Coffeeneuring Challenge 2017 #4: Western Bike Works

This morning I rode into town for Shabbat services at my shul. It was sweet and contemplative and just what I needed.
 Afterwards, I rode a short distance to Western Bike Works, where I would enjoy pour-over coffee and dry off a bit.
I was very surprised and disappointed to discover that the coffee bar had been removed, replaced by expanded repair check-in parking and a single tall cafe table with chairs (for folks to wait at during short repairs).



The guys were very friendly and one even invited me to take off my wet things and dry out a bit. "Help yourself to some drip coffee," he said, motioning towards the single hot-pot near the counter. "No charge."
So I did just that. A copy of the latest Portland Mercury was on the table, and I had my coffee, an energy bar from my bag and a little glance through Willamette Week's snarkier stunt-double while I observed my surroundings.

My bike felt out of place amidst the brand-new carbon-fiber and disc brakes all over the place.

Meanwhile, a repair stand and tools where  community bulletin board used to be indicated a new spirit in the place.

Considering that all of the tools were (a) still hanging there and (b) pretty darned clean, the more bicycle astute among their visitors would have figured out the vibe pretty quickly without the sign.














Still, it was good to be able to dry off a bit before suiting up again for the ride home. And for drip, the coffee wasn't terrible -- as long as you skipped the CoffeeMate.  And it was free, which saved me money and allowed me to enjoy myself without breaking the prohibition against spending money on Shabbat. (Seriously, though, I make better coffee at home.)                        

Sadly, I'm going to have to rate this one a fail, both for the removal of the perfectly nice little cafe and for the vibe that seems to have moved into the space.

By the time I rode from the non-cafe into downtown I was soaked again. The rain had not subsided all morning. And I was beginning to feel some fatigue creep on me from way inside (the way it does when I've expended myself and the Crohn's is rearing its head a bit.

So I tossed my bicycle on the bus and let Trimet do the driving.

(Below: Holladay Park, through the glass.)

 Total, around seven miles when all was saidand done. And now, naptime