Archive for September, 2006

The Pant Spec.

Fall fashion is on everyone’s mind these days. Everyone from The New Yorker to Bust has had their “fashion issue,” and it’s high time I unleashed mine. My issue is pants.

I spent a good portion of my young adulthood in Levi’s Polyeseter Permaprest Action Slacks. They make a fine pair of pants for bike riding - lots of stretch, dries quickly, and true to its promise, is permanently pressed. It will look equally sharp whether you are pedaling up Front Street or strutting down Broadway. But its greatest genius is the least obvious. It’s the back pockets. They fit a u-lock.

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(Featured Above: Patagonia Shop Pants)

I realized early in my messenger career that the right pair of pants was nearly as important as the bike and the bag for getting the job done. When you are locking up your bike fifty-some-odd times a day, you’ve got to have a system. You can’t just go rummaging around in your bag for your lock; it is simply not professional. Look sharp! Time’s a-wasting! Lock’ um up, move em’ out!

You see the situation: the right pair of pants is a competitive advantage. And this, dear reader, has nothing to do with how the pants make you look. While my lime green plaid “Arnold Palmer Originals” may not have flattered my every curve, and may not have always been easy on the eyes, they, like the Action Slack of yore, are unparalleled in performance.

Modern fashion has done me no favors in the pants department. Modern fashion offers me tiny pockets to make my butt look… jeez, I don’t even know. But they aren’t for putting stuff in. And a low rise offers me little coverage as I ride my track bike – I don’t care what they are saying is the new cleavage!

So, over the years my pant collection has become a motley mix of primarily thrift store pants that meet my own pant spec. You gotta be able to put a u-lock in the pocket, they have to conform to my No Cleavage Policy, and if at all possible, they should contain some measure of synthetic content for fast drying.

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(Above: The J-Lock)

This is a challenge in its own right, but it is further complicated by my tendency to go everywhere by bike. Locking up my bike outside the store leaves me with no way to “try on” the pants for u-lock compatibility. I’ve asked to take a pair of pants outside to check it against my lock, which really doesn’t get you any funnier of looks than if you stand in the store twisting around trying to measure the pockets of the pants you are wearing to the pockets of your pants-in-question.

What’s a girl to do? I recommend the buddy system. In the middle of a slow day at Rose City Messenger Service, my friend Caitlin and I teamed up and routed ourselves to various store to search for pants that meet the spec. This way, we could lock up our bikes together with one lock and then take the other lock into the store for trying on. The efficiency was unprecedented in both of our pant-buying experiences. We ruled out countless pairs of pants in record time by simply trying to insert the u-lock. It was a little bit like the glass slipper of fairy tale fame. But we never did find our Pants Cinderella that day.

I would have thought that the end of my messenger career would have expanded my options for pants – after all, I don’t need to lock and unlock my bike all day anymore. But building bikes has only altered the spec. While I still prize the accommodating pocket, now the primary concern is for the pants that won’t melt when I am brazing. Just this week, I had a close call and a fine reminder. I was squatting beneath the bottom bracket of a bike I was brazing when a liquid glob of pipin’ hot flux dripped onto my knee. My cotton pants – with no back pockets at all! – simply burned rather than melting to my leg.

The lesson in all of this is simply this: all my pants are Action Slacks at their core. They are the pants that are built for doing stuff. The nature of that stuff may change and so the pant spec will change along with it. And this is something that the New Yorker or even Bust will never have the leading edge on. Nope. My fashion manifesto this season is:

Wear it Like Your Busy Doing More Important Things.

Rock on. It’s the new look for Fall.

The Eat Local Challenge: Day Seven

On the final day of the “Eat Local Challenge,” after an entire week of working hard to find fruits and vegetables that I’d never tried before, I found the Seckel Pear. This came as a joy and a relief. As silly as it sounds, I had been sort of planning my days in part around the acquisition of produce novelty. And this was the day I had slated for the mysterious kohlrabi.

The Seckel Pear has many fine qualities, the most notable being its grown-in-Oregon-ness and its diminutive stature. The size of a plum and the price of a piece of bubble gum, it was just the low-commitment compliment to my lunch that I was looking for. And I enjoyed both bites immensely.

The other aspects of our edible day were more remarkable though. We headed down to the Portland Car Free Day after work to join a crowd of bike-loving folks for some mocktails and a Voodoo Donut Eating Contest. I chatted with a friend of mine who has recently begun moonshining. (His brother, a chemist at UW, has proven his moonshine to be the non-lethal kind.) He’s been making beer and wine – he grows his own hops, picks fruit for wine from friends’ trees. It has been a long time ambition of mine to make blackberry wine so I was interested to learn about the process and what it takes to get started. In a word: blackberries.

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The Bike Block Print

Natalie and I were cleaning up the other day, and I came across this block print she made. We have all sorts of bike art she has done over the years, but I think this one is really great:

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It reminds me of some European bike race on cobblestones, but was actually inspired by the Hell of the Southeast allycat back in ‘99.

The Eat Local Challenge: Day Six

Let’s hear it for the Portland Farmers’ Market. It is like a little sand mandala of vegetables in the Ecotrust parking lot. The fact that they are here right now, where cars usually park, sort of heightens the impermanence of the humble leek and ripened tomato.

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The Eat Local Challenge: Day Five

I’ve been thinking about a book called The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan; I read an excerpt from it in The Sun many months ago. It tackles the unique human question “What should I eat?” On one level, this looks like standing at the refrigerator door with the door open, peering in for an answer. But there is a broader global pantry. Compared to the koala, which only eats eucalyptus, we can digest pretty much anything we put in our mouths.

Apparently the koala used to eat a more varied diet and had a bigger brain. Then through the course of evolution it became specifically adapted to a euco-only diet. And its brain got smaller. I suppose if you have the skills to digest eucalyptus trees, who needs calculus?

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The Elements of Style

A genre is sometimes defined by its conventions. The Epic Poem, for example, starts in medias res, has the obligatory trip to the underworld, and features the almost divine hero figure. Think Homer’s Odyssey. Or Virgil’s Aeneid.

The bike messenger movie on the other hand, has other, different conventions. While some of these conventions may overlap, the bike messenger movie usually features excessive drinking, the punk or metal soundtrack, physical injury, and the mad bike skills. Here is one fine example.

My First (Bike) Love

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I have had many bikes over the years, and loved most of them in one way or another. There was the first bike I bought for myself when I graduated from high school. A white Trek mountain bike. At the time it was the grip shifters that had me smitten! Then there was my first real road bike - a beautiful 1970s steel touring bike handed down by a very dear friend of mine. And of course, there was the old Legnano I rescued from a scrap heap. That Italian racing beast was the first bike I ever put together myself.

As a messenger, I had an accelerated bike metabolism and after a few years I had had a lot of bikes in my life. But, to some degree they were all the same to me: cherished tools.

But there was one bike that struck a deeper chord. That was my handbuilt Strawberry racing bike. Initially, I didn’t think I needed it. I was a messenger, not a racer. This bike was not the kind you throw against a bike rack at the courthouse or subject to Portland’s rainy seasons. But my bike mechanic insisted that it was just my size, ready to be painted, and at his bike shop. In fact, he said, if I were to have a bike custom built for me, this would have been it. The only aspect of this bike that was up for discussion in his mind was what color I would want it painted.

Black with sparkles of course. I knew that for sure, even though I wasn’t yet convinced that I should buy the bike.

It was just a matter of time and seeing the black sparkly strawberry hanging in the bike shop before I admitted that I did need this bike.

It was beautiful. And even if it had ended up to be just another cherished tool, it would certainly have been worth bringing into my life. But here is the thing: this bike was not just another cherished tool. This bike fit me. Incredibly well. So much so that for the first time ever I felt completely and seamlessly right on my bike. It wasn’t the attachment you experience when you really like something. It is the attachment that you feel to your leg or your arm. And because of that, I experienced a joy in riding my bike that was entirely new. I had fallen in love.

Many years and many thousands of miles later, my Strawberry still makes me giddy. So when I designed my first Sweetpea, I asked myself what the Strawberry would look and feel like if it were a single speed cyclocross bike and went from there.

Does it feel the same?

Of course not.

But when I rode my Sweetpea for the very first time, I realized that I had captured that same feeling of connection that I experienced with the Strawberry - as if that joy had been there all along and was just waiting for me to build it into a bike.

Eat Local Challenge: Day Four

What a great day for local eating! While the beginning of the day saw its smattering of local foods – Washington apple, Nancy’s yogurt, Oregon-produced trail mix – but the real treat was having dinner at the home of our friends John and Elly. John is a chef, so dinner was elaborate and beautiful and simple all at once. While he was preparing squab ravioli and crème brule was getting stirred on the stove, I was handed a few Rainbow Trout. The kind that still have heads and tails. It had been a while, but I got in there and washed up those fish, went out back into the garden and grabbed some very local tomatoes and rosemary.

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The Eat Local Challenge: Day Three

It is closing in on 10pm and I think we’ve finally got those tomatoes in a submission hold. In the process, we have cried over onions, fretted over the implications of the garlic (so much!), and opened all the windows to deal with the pizza sauce fumes. I think we might have to start calling the kitchen the Situation Room.

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The Eat Local Challenge: Day Two

Today’s first food purchase again was Stumptown Coffee. I considered the dilemma of the relative localness of my coffee options, but coffee itself was not an option. We had some serious spectating to do at the Race for the Cure. That much clapping takes some fortitude.

After watching the race, we headed off to our friend Cailtin’s house for a vegan pumpkin waffle party. I learned just yesterday that the pumpkin has a very short season around these parts – really just two months. Though September isn’t one of them, canned pumpkin never goes out of season. Or style.

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