Hardtail
Writers talk about the obligatory semi-autobiographical first novel. It is the book that has your voice and is perhaps the first story you can find inside yourself to share with the world. But when the middle aged male author can write a teenage girl into a first person narration, then he’s really done something.
Until now, most of the bikes I have built are in some way autobiographical. I can mentally plop myself onto the saddle of a road bike, commuter, mixte, touring bike, cross bike, etc. and imagine the ride. Not so with a mountain bike, not one that is to be ridden with skills that I do not have, and a fearlessness that I may never know. And that is why I was so thrilled to build my first mountain bike for a woman whose experience and talent as a mountain biker were known to me even before I met her.
This hardtail’s curves complicate the notion that robustness necessarily has a straightforward form. It will be built up with a Fox F32-100mm fork and a White Industries double mountain crankset. The final build is shaping up to have a bright and weightless aesthetic, fitting for both bike and rider. Expect pictures soon.
Wool and yarn; ink and paper
(Portland, Oregon Bike Map)
Sweetpea is a bike company. That involves design, working with steel, and putting things together with fire.
But as we hinted earlier, the craft doesn’t stop there as we introduce new stuff built out of wool, ink and paper. You can find these creations over at our new Etsy Shop, or as we announced over there “…we have been so inspired by the grace and style that women bring to biking that we needed more ways to celebrate it. We bring you art. We bring you s’mittens. And we aim to bring you no end of surprise and delight.”
(Hi Kitty, Bye Kitty)
(Portland Roubaix)
(Kneehigh)
It’s been a couple of years since we have been to BikePortland’s Bike Craft, but we will be at BIKE CRAFT V on Saturday, and we are unreasonably excited about it.
Important things for you to know:
- S’mittens will be back in limited and colorful numbers.
- We will also have some of Natalie’s block prints, including one brand new (and quite large) addition.
It’s the holidays people. Let’s do this thing.
Spring Classic
This beautiful unpainted custom road bike 1) has a 50.5 cm seat tube 2) is waiting for your favorite color, and 3) is for sale. If you are around 5′5″ you (or someone you love) could be riding this in time for the spring season. Available as a frame only ($1600) or as complete bike (more than $1600). If you are interested, please contact us here.
Dreams
Last night I had a dream about a Llewellyn investment cast lug set.
In the dream I wore my brazing glasses, and through their darkened greenish light, it seemed as if I was looking at the seat lug from every angle at once. I had the torch in one hand and a coil of silver in the other. My vision followed the heat, followed the silver into the lug to where the seat tube and the top tube came together. I woke up. I went back to sleep and woke up again.
This morning I headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and I saw the package containing these lugs sitting on the kitchen table. My dream came back to me and I blinked it off. I drank my coffee and started my day. I finished a bike, ordered some parts, met with my mechanic, and talked to customers. I walked by these lugs about a dozen times with a million different trajectories of attention before clearing a space in my day to open the package.
Now that I have them spread out on the kitchen table, it is just as I suspected. These lugs won’t sit still. They are rumbling around in mind, already prepped for brazing, already cooling down. They are already a cyclocross bike for a ballet dancer in Albuquerque. And tomorrow, they’ll go out to the shop with me and I’ll light up the stuff that dreams are made of.
Tea Ceremony
This last week my view through the shop window has looked like a fading photograph. Each day drains more color from the trees and sky and even the sun appears desaturated and half-hearted. Inside the shop, the heater hums at my feet but steel tubes and tools feel colder in my hands. I find myself seeking warmth.
I wrap myself in layers of wools and fleece, but as I work, warm pockets of air drift off and away from me. In these spaces, the cold settles in. I feel the need to spark my pilot light. I need warmth that begins inside me, that moves through me and with me.
I make a cup of tea. Leaves and water. A steeping cup sits next to me on my workbench and its steam infuses the sharp metallic air of the shop with a softer note. Between tasks, my hands curl around warm ceramic and I sip. It is a rustic tea ceremony I make for myself, lacking ritual or precision, but full of appreciation.
How unlikely that, while the rain outside pulls color from the fallen leaves, water poured over the tea leaves in my cup draws out a richer hue. Oolong, desert sage, green tea, peppermint – uncurling and softening. And how graciously that tea warms my belly, softens my shoulders and radiates through me. Sip by sip until I feel that warmth as a part of me, a warm cup for a cold shop to wrap itself around.
FAVORITES:
Republic of Tea Desert Sage – reminds me of a dear friend, calls for plenty of honey.
Tao of Tea White Peony – Given to me by a customer I adore, it is sweet and a little nutty.
Trader Joe’s Earl Gray – the kind of no-nonsense get ‘er done black tea my mom raised me to drink.
COVET:
Tao of Tea Jasmine Pearls – when asked Twitter for a recommendation, the masses rallied for this one.
Lipton’s Russian Ceylon – available in France and England, this blend is reported to have little yellow flowers and comes recommended by a friend who knows about such things.
Smith Tea Brahmin’s Choice – the latest from new (old) local teamaker Steven Smith.
Neither the forest nor the trees
This is us before we found ourselves riding in complete darkness.
Forest Park had been going dark for miles and my perception of speed was going funny on me. We were pedaling slowly, but felt as though we were flying. As the last light disappeared, we slowed down even more in order to make out pieces of the trail in front of us. We couldn’t bring ourselves to stop and put on our bike lights.
That would have broken the spell.
The trail was no longer ahead of us. It was suddenly under us, around us, and everywhere.
I have often told myself during hard efforts to ignore my body’s distress signals. After all, pain is just a message that you body sends your brain. My mantra is “It’s just sensation.” And it is a reminder that I don’t need to feed or validate my pain with attention. This works disturbingly well for me. I suspect I’ve always had a knack for willful disembodiment.
But night riding in Forest Park, “It’s just sensation” took on an entirely different meaning. As my vision grew dimmer my focus receded from the next horizon, the next corner, all the way back to my own body. I felt the air gradually grow colder on my skin. l listened to the sound of gravel beneath Austin’s tires noting when he seemed to roll through a wet spot on the trail. I felt my bike more as an extension of my body than a vehicle. I relaxed my limbs to better feel and respond to the terrain. This too was just sensation. It was just sensation that found me and held me exactly where I was.
After pedaling four last incredible miles, we popped out of the trail onto the road. We stopped to put on an extra layer, dig out our lights, and reconnect with a familiar sense of the world. But ever since, I’ve been itching to go back.
Transcendental Ferociousness
(The author with her game face on.)
After racing my first cyclocross race of the year this afternoon, I did a self-assessment. What went well? What could use some work? Bike handling, general fitness . . . Eh, not so shabby. Barriers . . . Oy, not so hot.
But there is an additional skill set that they won’t teach you in the school of cross. I need to work on my cheering and my game face. I believe that these are areas that can be developed, just like dismounts and remounts.
CHEERING
My cheering is too cheerful. I am the de facto Energy Coach of the Super Relax Concept, yelling things like “Go EVERYBODY!” And “Good effort out there! Don’t be afraid to share you feelings!”. Offering positive reinforcement during Austin’s race, I stood next to the legendary John Howe of Team Beer and got a lesson in how it is really done. He bellows “Suck it up! This is a race, people – you paid money for this!”
Tough love was what this course called for. It was clear that racers grinding up a slick bumpy muddy incline needed to tap into agression not self-acceptance. They needed a heckling that they could bite into when the pain hit, not the verbal equivalent of Tension Tamer tea.
Next time I will do better. If you too need a refresher course in transcendental ferociousness, I invite you to join me as I revisit my two inspirations in this field of study.
First, blues singer Susan Tedeschi. I heard one of her live albums in which she boomed and growled the blues and finished every set by chirping a sweet bright “thank you :)” Her voice embodies such emotional range that I hear my own voice as a flat monotone by comparison.
Secondly, racer/writer/homey Heidi Swift. She is equally inspiring, perhaps more fierce. If after watching this video, you need further explanation, you can see me after class:
Her battle cries will wipe any goofy smile off my face and f-ing BRING IT.
Both have lurking just beneath the surface a raw power that they can tap into to get a job done that simply can’t get done sweetly. Next week I will roar “Get up that hill Princess! This isn’t a beauty contest!” And it will mean “I appreciate you for who you are.”
GAME FACE
My game face lacks game. (See above.) This is a tough one. It is just how my face looks.
Besides practicing in the mirror every morning, the only thing that might fix my grin into a proper soul-crushing grimace is more cowbell. And a bit more time in the blast radius of the lovely Miss Heidi Swift.
Out in the wild
A recent customer of ours surprised his wife for her birthday with a Little Black Dress in Pumpkin and put it together beautifully with some bamboo fenders and Queen Bee Panniers. He sent us this beautiful photo of his wife and the bike on one of the first rides.
