Here is a preview of a rig that just came back from paint. We are calling it Two Bite Curry: the first bite is hot, the second bite sweet.
(Editor’s note: Completely reckless use of linguistic devices ahead.)
Quietly, like a new years eve celebration that goes to bed at 9:30, we celebrated our one year anniversary of being car free.
There was less fuss to going car free than I would have anticipated - the lease was up, so I put the bike in the back, went to the dealership, gave them their car back, and rode home. That was pretty much it. Not a lot of planning. A little gearing up in terms of a good rain jacket and gloves. We did go big on the fenders now that we didn’t have car or gas payments.
A couple of days into it, we were still pretty pleased with ourselves to the point where even the steady spring drizzle didn’t seem to dampen our moods. When you need to go somewhere, and you can only go by bike, then you go by bike. The simplicity was oddly comforting. When we didn’t ride, we found ourselves walking around the city noticing things we hadn’t really noticed before.
The first hitch came when we dearly wanted to cash in a coupon from the Portland Nursery across town. How were we going to haul plants and mulch? That is when we discovered the beauty of the Zipcar. Like 823-BUMP, Zipcar filled the hole in our transportation options in no time. We took those big trips to the store, and ran luxuriously quick errands on dark rainy nights. We went to the coast when we wanted to. We got a puppy - who we now haul around in a Burley.
We admit that we have it lucky: we are close to a lot of services and there aren’t kids to schlep around. And while we miss hitting the trails as much as we used to, we now have a closer relationship to our travels. Like living on a farm, we know where our transportation food comes from.
I saw an interesting comment the other day, about the cognitive disconnect that people feel when they start to really understand the impact of cars. But I don’t feel any smugness in being car free, nor do I feel like I have escaped the disconnect. We use cars, and might have to buy one someday. But I can say that going car free was easier than I thought. Kind of like taking off the training wheels.
(Art History coming in handy.)
Some of you may recognize this road bike bike from North American Handmade Bike Show where it was on display at the Spectrum Powderworks booth. I can’t really overstate this - this paint job is incredible. These guys went all out. It has a 51.5 cm seat tube and a 52.5 cm top tube and a carbon fork that takes 650c wheels. Available frame/fork for $1500, or we can help you put it together. If you are around 5′5″ and have a 31″ inseam, this could be the bike for you.
Call or contact us for details.
Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.
This bike is amazing. Steel, leather, wood, and canvas all working together, not for good, but for awesome.
A couple of notes about the build: S&S couplers, Campy parts, dual lighting, Brooks saddle, Rivendell Lil Loafer Bag, and Full Wood Fenders. Sweetpea design, frame, fork, and rack.
Oh, and the decals are reflective.
You can see the full build in the slide show below:
Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.
(Image courtesy of BikePortland.org)
I love welding stores, but they can be a little trippy. There are always products on the shelf from way before I was born (apparently some aspects of melting metal haven’t changed that much) and the inexplicably fashion-forward welding bandanas (da-glo florals and patriotic variations on the theme of eagles). I tend to regard them as places apart from the rest of the world, unburdened by pesky advances in gender equality or merchandising finesse. I usually march in, find my goodies, and leave, no more noticed than the guy in the gorilla costume you didn’t notice because you were busy counting how many times the basketball was passed among the players.
So imagine my surprise, when the welding store clerk engaged me on the topic of bikes. He rides to work when he can, but also drives a truck. He questions whether riding on certain streets is really safe. And few observations of bike/car dialogue later, I felt Portland seeping into the welding store experience. Then he dropped the bombshell: “I really think that these Bike Boxes are a great thing. It’s good that bikes can pull in front of cars so that they can see you, and how you can’t turn on a red. It’s going to be a lot safer…”
Bike love knows no borders. Not in this town, at least.
There are a lot of interesting questions around creativity. There are also a lot of interesting questions around business. And sometimes, the two questions mix. I had, of course, heard of Twyla Tharp and seen some of her work, but had never thought of her in a business context until I read a remarkable conversation with her in the Harvard Business Review. Copying. Failure. Mentoring. Pain. This woman covered it all, so we are adding her to our list of infrequently updated Business Heroes.
Maybe its just me, but there is so much deep wisdom and tough effort, it is hard not to be impressed. In one section she notes that to get creative, you need to start copying. Not because copying is right, but because “real learning comes not from taking someone else’s solutions, but by taking someone else’s problems.” She talked about the need for movement and how it changes the mind, and also about her mentor of 20 years, who she met only three times. “I recognized that he was the person who knew the most about what he was doing. . . so I tried to learn as much as I could from him. I mentally parked him in the corner of my studio and the insistence on thoroughness that I saw in him became my standard.” When you start talking about bodies and creativity, you invariably see a lot of parallels to designing and building custom bikes.
But one of her main points is this: creativity takes discipline, and that you have to prepare for it with routine. (More on that here.) But at the same time you have to take risks and you have to fail. Otherwise you stagnate and your work gets less interesting. Good lessons for all of us no matter what we do.
Style and grace are too rarely lavished on small bikes. You might think that a bike built around 24 inch wheels and one of my smallest to date would be distinguished by its constraints. Sure, there is not a huge range of rims or tires to choose from. Handlebars only come so narrow. Only a few premium cranksets come in with crankarms short enough. But when I step back from the fabrication, I see that this bike is a joyous affirmation: Incredible athletes come in all sizes. Individuality always finds room to flourish. And yes, there is a bike out there for everyone.
Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.
(Drool)
It seems that we are just now coming down from the all out sprint that was the Big Show. Highlights include: meeting a ton of wonderful people, meeting all those frambuilders in person, and seeing energy and enthusiasm for great bikes. We got a lot of love from the press:
http://www.dailypeloton.com
http://thisjustin.bicycling.com/2008/02/built-by-hand.html
http://www.oregonlive.com
http://reviews.roadbikereview
http://wweek.com/editorial
But with that said, a couple highlights stand out: a warm framebuilder reception at the Vanilla Workshop, meeting Sheila Moon and all the other women builders - all six of them!, and the dog treats. Yes, dog treats. A lovely woman from Colorado brought us some dog treats for our puppy. So incredibly sweet.
Thanks to everyone who made it such a wonderful show. Special thanks to D Sharp (who took some amazing shots of), Megan (our first Sweetpea model), and Hazel (who we couldn’t have done it without).
Lastly, there were so many great shots of bikes out on the internet, I thought I would take some shots of the people who brought them to you. Enjoy.
Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.
With all the news, activity, and general awesomeness going on, we felt it right to give a little primer to those of you who might be hearing about us for the first time. First off, welcome to Sweetpea Bicycles.
We specialize in building bikes for the ladies, bikes that fit.
While most folks take measurements and plug numbers into a formula, we try as often as possible to do a real fitting - to see the rider in motion. There is a lot of experience, miles, and muscle memory that you need to work into the mix, and we think this is the best way of dialing things in. We have strong feelings about this. And we have one of the best fitters in the country.
We have one incredible bike builder.
Her name is Natalie, and she is one of only a handful of women bike builders in North America. With a background in architectural design and six years as a professional rider (cough, bike messenger), Natalie has been designing and building bikes for the last two years.
Our bikes start at around $3000 complete.
You are probably thinking one of two things: OMG, that is so expensive, or, OMG that is so cheap. We know. These beauties are built by hand, one at a time, and come out looking hot. They are made out of steel, and are designed to last a very long time. You get to pick your color. Prices vary based on parts and accessories.
We do not believe that you need credentials to buy a custom bike.
If you love to ride, that is all you need.
Our wait list is hovering around a year.
And we expect it to continue to grow. For those of you who are on the fence, now is probably the time. To get in line, we require a $500 deposit. Note: If we do not have your deposit, then you are not in line.
We donate 1% of our sales to environmental causes.
Our bikes are built in Portland, Oregon, but they are sourced from all over the world. Even though we are still small, we feel that there is no time like now for making a difference.
We keep some eye candy on the internets.
And pictures of our dog. To all of our Flickr buddies: Peace.
This is our most stolen picture.
You can see it here online 24 hours a day.
And yes. We know. The website needs work.
