My bicycle obsessions tell a different story. The bikes that I own and the bikes that I covet prove me to be quite the opposite of a minimalist. I add features. My “fast bike” has the couplers and takes fenders and a rack. Even my fantasy track bike has two water bottle cages. And disc brakes. And brass fenders. And a chaingaurd. Oh! And the ability to convert it to an internally geared bike if I want. See what I mean?

My latest bike obsession has forced me to come face-to-face with my miminalist/maximalist conflict. I want an long tail. Specifically, I want to transform my Two Bite Curry city bike into the Free Ranger with the Xtracycle’s Free Radical conversion kit. If you ask me why, I will tell say:

• 15 pounds of dog food and a bale of hay
• Bike camping
• Carrying your new Sweetpea to the final fitting
• Putting my mom on the back for a picnic at Laurelhurst Park

My inner minimalist asks me if I haven’t been doing just fine with my current basket and panniers. It reminds me that I already have a trailer. My inner minimalist asks me if more “stuff” is the answer.

But here’s the catch. I don’t suppose it’s a material problem I am looking to solve. I am willing to admit that the physical things I want perhaps speak more directly to the intangible things that I want.
I want to feel that any adventure is possible.

• I want to imagine that I am one good idea away from a bike trip to the coast.
• I want to broadcast generosity of spirit at every frequency. “Let me carry that for you!” “ Can I give you a lift?”
• I want to get pulled over for reckless optimism. With my mom riding shotgun.

I don’t know yet if and when I will be getting the long tail. But I am inclined to believe that some of the best stuff you’d want to carry with you down the road doesn’t actually weigh you down at all.

In years past, I might have been able to answer with confidence. You just do a gut-check: yup, feels like summer. So you take them off. Or you look to outside indicators: Fleet Week, Pedalpolooza, Rose Parade… and you take them off. But this spring it has rained like gangbusters, and it just keeps coming. It has soaked my intuition and drowned my faith. Times like these call for a new methodology. See if you qualify for fender removal below:

“Everything about that bike is foxy. Except the pedals. It’s like house slippers paired with a little black dress.”

Two things of note:
Yes, those pedals did not belong on that bike. At the time I conceded, explaining that I threw the pedals on so I could give the rig a test ride.

But no. Flat pedals are not house slippers. They are not a frumpy stand-in for something more appealing. Flat pedals are more like flip flops. More intention than substance. They are the easy ambivalence of summer, like an open patio door or a two week vacation. They invite you to come and go as you please and take your time doing it.

I’ve been riding flat pedals on my fixie for a couple of months now and it has changed my relationship with that bike. I am on and off like its no big deal, no real commitment. I’m riding and then I am not. I roll out to a coffee meeting with a customer. I cruise to the store in sneakers and rolled up pants. I even rode to a bike advocacy fundraiser in high heels and a dress.

Flat pedals nudge you in the right direction. They tell you to slow down, to enjoy the relaxation, to soak in the summer. They might not look fast, but these are the months when you want it to last.

We’ve talked about these guys before.  But it sure is exciting to get a call from a company that you admire and respect on a number of levels, and have them tell you that they dig what you are doing.  We’d be lying if we didn’t say that they were part of the inspiration behind starting Sweetpea.  I mean, if a bunch of surfers, climbers, and mountaineers can do it – and do it right – then so can we.

A frame is a vehicle stripped of it’s “go” parts.
A frame, even still, has a view to the world.
Through this sparkly pink touring frame, I see nothing but flowers and endless sky.

This bike began as a big idea and a spot in line.

The big idea was that you could build a bike almost entirely in Portland from design to finished product, and that the only thing standing in the way of that was a little help from friends. So a year before last year’s Alice awards, we put a spot in line for a frame and fork, and donated it to the BTA.

Then we reached out to Michael Sylvester of Bicycle Fitting Services for the fit, Chris King for the wheels, BB, and headset, and asked River City to bring it home. This is the finished product. It took a little while to completely come together, but it showed how a simple idea can turn into something beautiful.

(Click picture to see comments.)

It was a cold night, and I took the picture through the shop window while the dog was bouncing around trying to say hi.

The soul of a bike is a hard thing to locate. Among the bikes of my lifetime, I have traded wheels, swapped parts and repainted. Is it still the same bike when you turn it into a fixie? Is it a different bike if I paint it green and put cruiser bars on it? I don’t know.

But the bigger mystery goes like this, and happens in reverse: I work on a bike for months, from the conception to the fitting, design, fabrication, paint and assembly; and at some point it comes to life in a way that is bigger than I could have designed.

This bike was commissioned to do more than simply replace my customer’s ill-fitting and ancient road bike. It is designed to be her primary means of transportation and to fit like a glove. From the 650B wheels to the Brooks saddle, the Nitto bars to the purple paint, we were crafting a bicycle that was at once a vehicle and an intimate personal artifact. You can see in the details that this bike is meant to be used rigorously and loved tenderly.

But the soul of bike wasn’t made piece by piece. It has an old soul that is inherited from a tradition of city bikes. Visible in this bike are the same inspirations and considerations that you can see the work of Ant Bike Mike or the design of Grant Peterson. Their bikes respond elegantly to the question of how you ride comfortably, in all weather, along whatever route your day requires, with your cargo on board. It is this question that informs the tradition, conjures the soul, and if you look closely, you can see it reborn for a new body.

Many of you may be in committed relationships with your road bike, city bike or touring bike. That is sweet, commendable really. But at the risk of throwing your life choices into question, I just want to say… Remember that mountain bike you loved back when you were in middle school,/high school/college? Well, the mountain bike has grown up and gotten sexy. And it is time for you to get reacquainted.  Meet the Bombshell. Hard tail, soft curves, suspension fork, disc brakes. This Bombshell may rekindle some powerful feelings. It did for me. The tailhead starts here.

• Fox F32-100mm shock with 15mm axle.
• Thomson seat post and stem
• XT drivetrain
• Portland Design Works Speed Metal Grips
• Reynolds Canyon Disc MTB wheelset
• Schwalbe Nobby Nic Tires 26 x 2.1
• Chris King Headset