Sweetpea Bicycles

If you live in Portland, you know that today was the first day in a long while that we have not had rain. The count was something crazy like nearly thirty days in a row. I don’t know the exact count, but it has been a lot.

I can honestly say that I have newfound respect for my fenders. We went out riding last weekend when it was just drizzling, and I took the bike without the fenders only to realize my dream of getting dirt in the most inconceivable of places. When I got done with the ride there was an actual mound of dirt about and inch tall on the back of my saddle, and a line of dirt all the way up to my helmet.

It really was a real special moment.

Well, today wasn’t the most beautiful day, but there was no rain. It was kind of cold, kind of windy, and Natalie and I took a four hour fixed gear ride on the Springwater Corridor.

People were absolutly coming out of the woodwork. The trail was packed! People walking their dogs, their kids, themselves. People riding bikes. It was nice to be out and see so many people just enjoying a day that wasn’t anything particularly special, but just wasn’t raining sheets.

But with that said, the one thing that really struck me was all the bikes. These weren’t people out on training rides, and these weren’t rain ready bikes with fenders and the like. These were summertime bikes dug out the basement. That is when it hit me: These were people with hope. And realizing that made for a pretty nice ride home.