Approaching terminal Rivendell

Rivendell Bicycle Works was founded in 1994, by a guy with some very particular ideas about what a good bicycle ought to be. Over the years, his ideas expanded to bicycle accessories and then to riding.

RBW became a cool little mail order company and people caught on.

I was one of those people. I began working in the bicycle industry the same year that Rivendell began, and I was attracted to many of the ideas that RBW espoused. 

Five years later, I bought a Rivendell frameset — well, actually a truck driver’s insurance company bought it for me — and built it up.

It has been a lovely ride, both the bike and the time spent living my bicycle life according to RBW’s template. I couldn’t keep up with all of it, mind you — I was never strong enough to be a long term mega-miler and my income simply couldn’t keep up with RBW’s prices — but I did my best to enjoy myself.

Then Covid happened, and it changed my life.

I couldn’t ride a bicycle at all for almost two years. When I could begin riding again, it was a lot slower, the distances were much shorter, my tolerance for cold, wet weather had greatly diminished and my balance was more precarious than before. 

At the height of my bicycle life, I averaged over two thousand miles a year for close to a decade. I wasn’t breaking any speed records, but I got to ride through some lovely places and mostly enjoyed it.

Since coming out of the pandemic and resuming riding, my rides are fewer and shorter now. If I can manage a ride of four miles round trip that’s an incredibly good day, and leaves me exhausted afterwards. Sometimes I feel wobbly and have to stop riding and walk my bike for awhile. I no longer leave the house without my transit pass, in case I have to put my bike on the bus to get home. 

(This happens more often than not these days.)

During the latter half of lockdown, when I was still able to turn wrenches, I found an old Peugeot mountain bike, and set about making it work for me. It sits slightly lower than my Rivvy because the frame is more vertically compact. This means I need a longer stem to make the handlebars the right height. It looks a little dorky but it’s safe and solid for the riding I do now.

It’s also got a lower top tube, so I can get on and off more easily.

And for reasons I’m still not entirely clear on, it’s more comfortable to ride than the Rivvy now. The laid-back geometry allows me to set the saddle farther back, putting my legs and knees in a comfortable place. The most telling difference is that after I ride the Rivvy, my knees hurt for days. After I ride the Peugeot, they feel fine. I need to hang out with this some more before I reach any conclusions about how and why.

Since I don’t ride as much as I used to, I‘m giving some thought to selling my 1999 All-Rounder, and being done with the whole RBW-cool of it all. 

Early in RBW’s history, Grant would encourage folks to buy his bikes by saying they were “affordable for anyone with a job and bicycle priorities,” and I always winced a little when I read that. While I did buy a Rivendell myself, it was with the proceeds from a crash settlement. I certainly could never have afforded it myself, not on my bike mechanic’s wages. And I needed my bike shop job to obtain the discounted parts with which to build it up.

I worked in a bike shop that focused heavily on repairs, and on encouraging people to commute by bicycle on whatever they had. This probably helped to inform my discomfort as well.

It was fun for a long while, but I always held something back. Some of my enthusiasm was always tempered with how damned expensive it was to become part of the Rivendell cult, and also how overly male the whole thing felt for quite a long time. I’ve never forgotten that awareness in thirty years of my own enthusiasm for good bikes and places to ride them. That awareness has tempered my enthusiasm a little bit this whole time.

It’s not unlike the other parts of my life where I’ve belonged, but not fully. When the first half of your life is spent on the margins and always on the go, you never become fully grounded in any scene or group, because you can’t. It’s part of the hardwiring of my brain, for better or worse. Probably both. And it can’t really be undone now, and I am learning how to live with that knowledge. I am learning how to discern what still makes sense in my life, and what needs to be set down.

Not fully belonging has been hard but it has also allowed me to see things from a different angle. And so it has been with Rivendell and my participation in the RBW cult. I participated while knowing that I could never really keep up, and when I got dropped — physically, geographically or financially, I just kept riding my own ride and calling it good.

I’ve gotten to a point where I no longer have “bicycle priorities,”  or the stamina to chase after them. And that realization has helped me to see where and how the RBW thing isn’t really serving me anymore. Not keeping up has become far more prevalent since I got sick and never fully recovered. Not keeping up has given me a new perspective on what it means to be in my body, and on how I move around in the world today.

I’m thinking about putting the Rivendell up for sale, probably in the early spring. I don’t know yet if I will sell it as a frameset or as a whole bike. I have a few months to consider that, and also to determine if I have enough strength in my hands to dismantle and clean it up.

I’m not sure yet what I’d ask for the bike, and will think about it over the winter. But I will not accept trades, in whole or in part. Meanwhile, I’m pondering.

2024 Coffeeneuring Challenge #7: we don’t need no stinking rules

Today’s Coffeeneuring ride was hard for me.

I’d slept poorly. The cats woke me at 5:30 am, demanding to be fed. My joints ached with the onset of cooler, wetter days, and I was sorely tempted to just chuck it all today and call my Challenge done.

It has been harder to ride a bike since coming out of Long Covid. Most of my symptoms have abated, except for occasional spikes in heart rate after exertion and dizziness pretty much anytime I turn my head or body to one side or the other. My doctor does not know whether the dizziness is from the Long Covid, from my aging process, or both. But she keeps encouraging me to find ways to stay physical active if I can.

Then, there’s the depression and anxiety, both of which have taken on new shades with conflicting diagnoses of ADHD and now PTSD. These issues have left me reeling, as both have come later in life. I’ve learned that I tick most of the boxes for both; and there is no definitive way to tell them apart without more extensive — and expensive — testing that’s not covered by Medicaid. So I’m doing my best to stay busy and work with a counselor while I await a disability determination. I’ll probably be denied, as everyone is the first time around. Do I want to appeal? I don’t know. Either way, I turn 62 in a few months, and will file for regular Social Security regardless to help ease the financial concerns, since I can no longer work full time at a regular job.

Riding my bike has come less frequently since Coming back from Long Covid. It’s possible that I will never regain the strength and endurance I had before, and the balance issues will probably not subside fully. It takes me .pinger on the bike to actually enjoy riding now, and with the arrival of typical fall weather I know my riding will probably taper off a great deal.

I probably — definitely — broke some rules with this seventh ride. I repeated an event (Coffee Outside), though it was held in a different location. I brought a thermos of coffee from home. And I went multimodal, as I do now with most rides over two miles each way because of the balance stuff.

And honestly, I sort of don’t care.

I’m glad to still be able to ride a bike at all and still enjoy it. I’m glad to still be able to enjoy bike-based social gatherings, even if they are fewer and shorter. And I’m glad that I can still peel off my wet layers and make some hot soup after a rainy ride, and enjoy the warmth returning to my hands and feet.

But all in all, riding a bicycle doesn’t take the precedence in my life that it used to. And that has been a strange thing to notice, after decades of living a true bicycle life. I’m older, slower and creakier now. My overall health is no longer what I can call robust, even on good days. 

I’m working with my counselor on something called Acceptance and Commitment, and therapeutic approach often used with people who’ve had years of complex trauma and also are dealing with a lot of loss. It involves recognizing one’s losses and taking time to really grieve them, something our workaday world with its demands of near-constant productivity doesn’t easily afford or honor. Daily physical activity is supposed to help, so on my good days I still do something. On the harder days, when the balance is really wobbly or my arthritis is hurting, I try to give myself some grace and rest when I need to.

So I can’t say whether or not I’ll try to add any more rides for my Challenge this year.

While the admins may not agree, I’ve done my seven rides. So if I don’t have the emotional or physical spoons to do any more, I’m giving myself permission to call it good.

It was a lovely morning, even if it was cold and wet. We met at a grade school on the edge of Ladd’s Addition, where there’s a little covered play area made of wood. It’s perfect for congregating and sharing conversation, coffee and baked goods (including, today, chocolate babka). 

I also enjoyed watching someone try to ride an odd bike. It was too tall for me to try (which is probably a good thing), but reports from other riders assured me it was not an optimal experience and I wasn’t really missing out. 

NOTE: Thanks to Xfinity Essentials (aka poor people’s WiFi) deliberately slowing down my internet at home, I am unable to add photos, even one, without everything freezing up.

I may try to add them at my Instagram, but if I’m not successful, there’s nothing I can do and you’ll just have to take it on faith that I rode today.

Happy riding.

2024 Coffeeneuring Challenge #6: Urgency

We were out of a few things and the big rain hadn’t arrived yet, so I decided to head to the store for a quick trip. I also hoped to take a scenic route home to check out the widened bike path on N. Willamette Blvd.

But in leaving so early in the day, I was risking the sudden onset of urgently needing a bathroom. This is always a risk when one lives with both Crohn’s and IBS. Now that I am semi-retired, I have the luxury of not having to leave the house very early in the morning, so I can take care of myself at home without stress.

But if I wanted to beat the rain, I had to leave early.

En route, I saw the recently repaired Free Cupboard had been restocked, and was glad to see that the Little Free Library side had some fresh books on the shelf.

There are maybe hundreds of Little Free Libraries all over Portland now, and dozens of Free Fridges and Free Cupboards too. I love the neighborliness these things represent and encourage. If we had the space in front of our house we’d install a Little Free Library, but there are at least two within a block of us so it’s not an urgent need.

Heading on towards the store, I passed by Woodlawn Park, and hoped that eventually the City would replace the sign that had been deliberately destroyed by BLM rioters in 2021. When they staged protests in the park back then, some of the protestors would set things on fire or smash them with sledgehammers, a multidirectional statement against the state, white supremacy and the police department. If they wanted to effect change, there were better ways to do it, and they did not get much love from residents who live near the park.

Then, it happened. My body gave off telltale signals, and I needed a bathroom. Very soon. 

I turned onto Rosa Parks Blvd and looked up and down cross streets until I found a Porta-Potty. In NE Portland, someone is always building or repairing a home, and there’s sure to be a Blue Room out front if the required work is extensive. 

Thankfully, this one wasn’t padlocked for the weekend, as some are.

While some folks may not want to think about it, this sort of thing is a regular fact of life for me, and nothing to feel squidgy or ashamed of. We all have to go sometime.

Without time or a reasonable pole to lock up to, I have to lean my bike against the Porta-Potty and hold the door slightly ajar so I can grab my bike if someone tries to take off with it. It has only happened to me once in my entire life, but one incidence is enough around which to create a policy.

I rode past beautiful scenes that reminded me why I love living here, including the end of the blooming season at Peninsula Park, dogs running across the grass with their tongues hanging out while their humans made small-talk, and a gentle breeze that nudged a few leaves off their branches and helped them float gently to the damp ground.

The air began to change, and I could feel the moisture in the air grow. The rain would come soon.

In order to fulfill the beverage requirement of the challenge, I helped myself to some coffee from the coffee counter inside the store, enjoying a small cup while I shopped and saving the rest in my thermos for the ride home.

After I made my purchases, I unlocked my bike, put on my rain jacket and rode home, deciding to take a more direct route and save N. Willamette for another day.

Thankfully, there were no more urgencies of any sort on my ride, and when I got home the rain had yet to show up.

From the inside of our entryway, it was lovely to hang up my bike and watch the yard for a few minutes while I sipped some more coffee from the thermos. And when I turned around, there was a sweet kitty to welcome me home.

Hope your rides this week are truly enjoyable.

2024 Coffeeneuring Challenge #5: Coffee Outside at Overlook Park

Technically, I’m only supposed to count two rides per week for the Challenge.

Since I could not ride last weekend because of Yom Kippur — and even if I wasn’t working I would have still been at shul somewhere — I’ve gone ahead and counted my mid-week rides as taking the place of anything I might have done last weekend on any other day of the year.

If the admins have difficulty with this, I’m sure they’ll let me know.

Meanwhile, it’s another weekend, and the weather and my energy level were more closely matched today, so I rode to Overlook Park to meet up with the Coffee Outside regulars.

I packed a thermos of home-brewed coffee, took along a rain shell just in case (becuse it’s fall and I live in Western Oregon), and enjoyed a lovely 3-mile ride.

When I got there, I discovered that folks were congregating at the outside table in the off-leash dog area, instead of under the stone building. Then I noticed that someone had camped out in there and was still asleep. My friends had move so as not to wake him too early.

Here’s a photo dump that includes several regulars, some beautiful, well-loved bikes and a few Coffeeneuring patches, along with falling leaves and a sky that grew sunnier by the minute. It was a gorgeous fall day that was perfect for our gathering, and I am glad my balance was sufficiently well enough to participate.

Happy Riding!

2024 Coffeeneuring Challenge #4: Crema

I decided to try another coffee loop today, this time over in southeast Portland.

I enjoyed a slow ride along tree-lined residential streets, and eventually made my way to Crema, at the corner of SE Ankeny and 28th. They’re known for excellent baked goods made in-house, and their coffee isn’t bad either.

I ordered a fat slice of some of the nicest pumpkin bread I’d had in a long time. Moist and flavorful, and without nuts — a walnut allergy compels me to ask every time so I don’t end up eating something that will make my mouth and throat itch! — and a generous portion. It went well with a fresh cup of coffee and the latest issue of the Willamette Week, which fetures their editorial endorsements for the November election.

The ride home was more tiring than I thought it would be.

The truth is that I’ve had to come to terms with just how much Long Covid and the pandemic have aged me. I simply haven’t been able to enjoy long rides anymore, because of creaky knees, occasional dizzy moments, fatigue or a combination of all of the above.

This time, I tossed my bike on the bus to shorten the ride home. Even with that, I still managed about five miles of riding, and got home in time for a lovely afternoon nap.

2024 Coffeeneuring Challenge #3: So very French

I had to postpone my Coffeeneuring rides from this past weekend (when I was out of town leading Yom Kippur services) til today and maybe tomorrow.

On my way to pick up a drum part from a guy, I decided to get some coffee and a bite. Today would have been my mother’s 89th birthday, and although she’s been gone for decades it felt appropriate to mark the date with a warm beverage. My mother loved the first rains of fall and today was a perfect day to remember that, and to remember her.

I stopped at La Petit Provence, a French cafe in the Alberta Arts District.

Normally a stalwart among my preferred coffee stops, today everything was a little jerky and slow.

My waiter had to check with someone to make sure who’d been assigned to serve my outside table. That took ten minutes after I was seated.

Then, after I made my order — a decaf mocha and a cheese croissant — I waited for nearly twenty-five minutes. Only after I was able to make eye contact with my waiter through the window did she finally bring me my coffee and croissant. The croissant was warm, but rubbery: someone had warmed it in a microwave oven. My waiter apologized and told me the croissant would be on her. I ate it, but it was sad. And I still had to pay for my coffee, which was weird. I felt bad for the waiter, who was very young and possibly new, so I left her a very small tip along with the charge for the coffee drink, got up and left.

It was probably the most surprisingly sad visit I’d had at this place. I’m willing to give it another chance.

While I sipped my coffee, rain came and went and came again. It wasn’t cold and I enjoyed the sound of the raindrops on the heavy canvas canopy above my head. French popular songs played over a loudspeaker. There was a mild breeze with each passing shower. Fall had definitely, finally arrived.

After leaving the cafe, I rode down the hill to collect the drum part, and took a scenic route home for a total of six miles. That’s a lot longer than I usually ride anymore, and by the time I got home my knees were hurting and I felt a little wiped out.

Still, I’m glad I rode.

2024 Coffeeneuring Challenge #2: Sunflower days

Today was Sweetie’s birthday.Her oldest friend in Portland took her out for breakfast while I had an online counseling appointment. After that, I enjoyed a little bike ride through the Alberta Arts District.

I treated myself to a cheap quesadilla at La Sirenita. Strangely, it’s next door to another Mexican restaurant called La Bonita, and both places have remained successfully in business for over a decade. I prefer La Sirenita because it’s a little funkier, more down-at-heel, and the food is hot, fast and fresh. And cheaper than La Bonita.

Afterwards, I rode a little farther down Alberta Street, and ducked into Golden Pliers to use their restroom. I sat outside for a few minutes to read the free weekly and enjoy the people-watching along Alberta.

Finally, I unlocked my bike and prepared to ride home along residential streets. But as I walked my bike to the end of the block, I looked down at the next bench and found this:

I looked around, saw that there was no one near it or looking for it, so I pocketed it. It still works and has a pleasant sound. I might make a gift of it later, to someone in need of a nice bell.

The weather was cool and cloudy, enough for me to keep wearing my hoodie. Along the way, I admired the decay that has become more prevalent since the pandemic and anti-police protests of the past few years. There’s a fence up around this building, which may mean some forward progress. Maybe.

On the way home, I enjoyed autumn leaves in a rainbow of greens, golds, reds and oranges.

Gardens everywhere we’re in the process of turning into the next season, with tomato cages coming down and mulch being laid in.

We still have some sunny days ahead, but with gradually lowering temperatures and fewer hours of sunlight. I love this time of year, though I wish the transition wasn’t quite so gradual. In past years, the rainy season would have hinted at arriving by now, but global warming has made a difference. 

I passed by this enormous sunflower and had to stop for a closer look. When the buds turn to seeds, the birds will go crazy.

I’m not adhering to a strict schedule this year. The Challenge began during the intermediate period of the High Holy Days, and allowances simply needed to be made. But I’m hoping to keep up with a couple of rides a week throughout the Challenge. 

Riding is a little harder these days, because it depends on how my balance is, and from day to day it’s not as predictable as it was before Long Covid. So if I have a good day that’s too close to the previous week’s rides, I’m not going to worry about it, I’ll just ride.

Happy autumn.

2024 Coffeeneuring Challenge #1: Neighborhood jaunt

I began my Challenge with a neighborhood jaunt.

I took coffee with me in a thermos so I could sip along the way, and had no destination in mind. 

Did I ride at least two miles? Probably. I haven’t used a cyclometer in years so it’s all guesswork now.

Here are some photos.

Most of my ride was taken n an errand, but ended with a stop at Metropolis Cycles to use the restroom. I was pleasantly surprised to find an old former Citybikes co-worker turning wrenches there. She was glad to see me, and told me that she still enjoyed working on bikes, so she’ll keep doing it awhile longer. (She’s ten years younger than me, and probably in slightly better health, so more power to her.)

I enjoyed taking a look around at some lovely bikes, then rode home.

The end of Swrve

Because of my ADHD-type brain, I often don't follow the latest news from every source.
So when I checked in on Swrve, the California-based cycling-oriented clothing makers, I was surprised to see an announcement that was actually dated February of this year.

Swrve is closing down.

They are slowly selling off what stock they have left, at somewhat discounted prices, until they get down to the dregs. Then they will blow out what's left (by then it will be pants for 28-inch waists and some leftover pandemic masks), turn out the lights and go home.

In their announcement, they explain why they're closing down. Basically they had a good run for fifteen years. Then, though they don't allude to this in their memo, the pandemic came along and made all of us wonder why we were spending $125 on a pair of jeans, especially since our jobs were lost and the government checks hadn't started rolling in yet.

They say that the landscape has changed, and indeed it has. But not only because of Covid. The landscape changed for a million little reasons -- a thousand tiny cuts, as they say -- that signaled the end of the last bicycle boom, the last great gasp of Big Oil, the rise of electric vehicles and the revitalization of the car industry, and the beginning of late middle age for an entire generation.

The fast is, if you don't live in a bikeable place, you're not riding bikes so much right now. I can't speak for the rest of the country, but Portland is losing the momentum of previous decades and losing the ground gained on bicycle- and pedestrian-friendly infrastructure. We're losing safe place to walk and ride for so many reasons, and have been since we began to "bounce back" from Covid. Bouncing back is looking different.

Hell, my body looks different after Covid, Long Covid and so much change.

Instead of keeping up with newly emerging realities, Swrve tried to stay in its old lane for too long. Their largest pants do not extend beyond a 38 inch waistline. (I have had to regularly go through my old Swrve pants and add gussets in the back to accommodate in increased girth. I stopped caring about what that looked like long ago, because I no longer tuck in my shirts.)

They insisted on limiting their sizing range to the young and skinny, long after I and others had grown beyond it. And they insisted on selling clothing that fewer and fewer people could afford in a post-Covid world.

Adapt or die.

Or, more accurately, you can adapt and it's probably a good idea.
But you will still die.

Save your resources for things you can use for a long time and then pass on.

Happy riding.