impatient voyages

Remember the "ipod nod"? Back when only a select few had ipods and they were far from touch screen? And those white earbuds would qualify you for that so-geeky-it's-chic, sage nod from another ipod owner? That secret, shared understanding of owning something...superior?
I like how that died within a year as ipods and Apple just continued to take over the world. Now everyone has one, it's just another gadget attesting to your status [or lack thereof]. There's nothing special about owning one anymore. No more of that exclusiveness. No more of that excitement that comes with belonging in a special group of the select few who really, truly understand.
Bikes are different though. Proof? I saw two pairs of excited eyes yesterday that seemed to hum with elation. I nearly nodded.
After a [miserable] run and then a bike ride downtown, I showered then hopped back on the bike to get drenched in my own sweat all over again. Because Marcus was putting the finishing touches on his new 'cross bike, and invited me on its maiden voyage. Like I could ever miss this. I skipped into IBC, dumped my bike next to Wes's Merckx [hottt!] and clopped my cleated feet over to 2nd Cup for some coffee.

Picking my way back to the shop, I saw a guy who had just purchased a Trek. And just before he pushed off onto the street, I asked him if it was New Bike Day. He happily answered in the affirmative and, with bright, happy eyes, jumped onto his new steed. It never gets old, that feeling. Even when it's not your own bike...because you know. You understand.
Back at IBC, I climbed the stairs with caffeine in one hand and a camera in the other, and paparazzi-ed Marcus as he put the finishing touches on his new baby. I seemed to be the most impatient person there; I couldn't wait until it was ready to be ridden, and I literally jumped up and down with excitement when I first saw it, it was so so so close to being complete.

Bars wrapped perfectly [by Chris], cables adjusted, chain measured out, and pedals finally installed, we headed out for a quick ride down Comm Ave. And wow, is that bike hot. In the light of the setting sun, the silver frame looks almost white, and seemed to shift like butter. My knee was being stupid but with vicarious excitement coursing through my muscles and fueled by adrenaline, I was springing up the hills, alternating between following Marcus and leading.
We parted ways after babbling about practicing dismounts, jogging, and how good his frame is going to look with mud splattered all over it. Plans are in the works for practicing and falling over our bikes in dark fields when no one else is around. It's going to hurt and probably be slightly miserable.
As usual, I can't wait.

hump de bump

I have 1.5 Boston winters under my commuting belt [I got my Bianchi in January 2008].
It doesn't make me any more hardcore, or special, than any other cyclist. But it's something I'm secretly proud of. It's also the reason I think Bicycle Commuter Appreciation Day should be in the middle of February, not in May. When your eyes and nose start to gush water as soon as you climb on a bike because of the cold, and the air's so dense you can't manage even a moderate pace without a struggle, well, that's when you should be appreciated.
But open houses, contests, and block parties are a different story. You need warm weather, good people, and a solid shop. And that's exactly what my other, other home - Cambridge Bikes - provided last night. Even food was involved.

Arriving a little late [as usual] and slightly completely confused, I stopped by a tent, bumped into RMM, and got suckered into entering my track baby into the Commuter Bicycle contest [believe it or not, I actually have commuted to school on my little pony]. There were a whole bunch of different categories, and tons and tons of bicycles. No way I was going to win anything, but hey, I got to park my bike next to a Vanilla, and that's a reward in itself.
Bouncing between the shop and the party outside, I spotted some distinctive white and black kits and shaven legs. And tricycles. I couldn't miss this.

The camera came out and I was laughing hysterically as some of CB's finest raced tricycles in kits and cleats. It seemed addictive, as more and more people signed up to spin around the makeshift course three times. I nearly got seated on one of those things, but used the excuse that I'll have an unfair advantage over everyone because those tricycles would probably fit me.
Slipping inside, "what's up"s and high fives were exchanged, despite the packed shop. Both familiar and unfamiliar faces filled the shop, and sort of in limbo, I ended up leaning against the end of the counter, in that happy medium between customer and employee. Between snapping more pictures, I caught up with Pete, Jason, and Zach while commuters as diverse as the bicycles outside milled about curiously.

It was dark before I knew it, which meant that I learned how to open the plastic packaging of a Knog light [throw it against the floor]. And just when I was about to head out, the call that awards would be announced was made. It was probably the new CB cycling cap [designed by Croth, and handed to me by Kip himself] that did it. Or maybe my luck's just turning. Because I did end up winning something:

Or, a few things. All things pointing to more bike rides. Matching green CB socks with Pete? Check. CB water bottle that I've been wanting for a while? Check. Massive bag that I could probably carry my sister in? Check, check, check!
Winning stuff also apparently meant pictures had to be taken. Natasha snapped away while Croth pulled a sneaky from-behind pic [justifying it by claiming that "that picture didn't include that much of your ass"]. All pictures which will undoubtedly eventually surface on the Internet. So, a disclaimer: I am constantly sweaty, disheveled, and un-photogenic. You've been warned.
[Big thanks to everyone at CB for putting this on - it was awesome! More pictures from the open house/block party here.]

gage & desoto

I love "Zoolander."
Maybe that's why designers scare me.
Okay, not really. Designers have always been sort of intimidating. I have this image of them as being self-absorbed and a little crazy. A slightly socially awkward drama queen whose erratic behavior is only forgiven due to the ability to create, cut, and sew beautiful things together. And one that loves to judge.
My limited closet is enough reason to avoid this species of human. But with the hat making thing, it's getting harder. And yesterday, at NYC Velo, I met one. In person.
An email popped into my inbox last week, a hello from the Big Apple from a designer who loves bicycles. One who wanted to trade. With a trip down to the city planned in two days, packing to be done, and hats for Cambridge in the works, I wasn't sure I could finish one in time. But it was a request for a "Boston" hat. For a designer in NYC? This was going to be interesting...and worth a late night or two.

Meet Mike Spriggs. The man behind Gage & Desoto [and those infamous "I *cog* NY" t-shirts], he's a Boston transplant that picked up and moved 4 hours south for legitimately insane traffic and a city that necessitates biking 10 miles [out of the city] to get to good training routes. And after hearing that he still wears Bosox gear in NYC, maybe this crazy city suits him better than cutesy New England [come on, even Southie has a measure of quaint...Irish...drunken...charm].
A bus ride and a handful of emails later, I met him yesterday to listen to stories about being a courier in Boston, Cambridge Bikes when it was in Harvard Square, the intensity of NYC, and his trip to Beijing, Osaka, and Tokyo. There was no pretension, and I was the sole provider of the socially awkward factor [as per the usual]. And despite my wide-eyed terror at biking a few short blocks, I even got to see the new Gage & Desoto t-shirt design:

After talking labels and with a promise for a screened t-shirt [of course, it'll be blogged about, but I'm not telling which one I want...yet], I headed home, with a new friend in the city.
Too bad this isn't Boston. But I'll be back down here again.
And it won't only be for coffee and fabric.

nyc...on velo

Admittedly, NYC feels a little unfamiliar on bike.
Being lazy, I've always been a big fan of the swelteringly hot, muggy subway, whose stations always smell like a public restroom that's been attempted to be cleaned - unsuccessfully - with some industrial strength bleach. On previous visits, I learned how to appreciate that blast of sticky air that clutches you in its uncomfortably warm embrace as you slide your Metrocard through the ticket gate. The NYC subway might not smell like roses, but it was convenient. Especially compared to Boston.
But on bike, I'm almost longing for Boston. NYC looks almost unrecognizable above the underground subway. And clutching onto my brakes, trying to stay constantly alert for a door, a pedestrian, a taxi intent on cutting me off, I'm desperately trying not to get lost. Armed only with a cellphone and pieces of paper with scribbled street names [my sister doesn't have a printer], I started to understand the disadvantages of always flying solo.
Sucking down liquid courage in the form of one of NYC's best lattes from Jack's Stir Brewed Coffee, I made my way uptown after a morning of intense fabric shopping to perfect a skill I've been honing for the past year or so, but in a new city. And in a new shop.

NYC Velo to be exact. I'd heard it was an awesome shop, from both my sister [who bought her bike here], and a few other reliable sources. I had to check it out. Besides, this was the perfect opportunity to sharpen my "hanging out at bike shops for unnecessarily long periods of time and refusing to leave" skills.
For the record, I wasn't expecting to achieve IBC levels of loitering. This is an unfamiliar shop, in a kind-of unfamiliar city. I didn't even have a wingman to aid in eating up the shop's minutes, much less one to hold my hand and guide me through the city. NYC might be a grid, but the people definitely make this city unpredictable.
Adrenaline still pumping from the ride there, I was sweaty and frazzled when I walked into the shop. But once I did, I finally managed to exhale. And inhale. Bicycles. Ahhhhh.

Not just bicycles, but bike parts, shoes, and most impressively, lots and lots of bike clothes. There were baskets of gloves, hangers full of kits, and shelves of t-shirts. It's like a concept store but with legitimate substance behind it; it's not a fixster shop where it's only about what everything looks like. NYC Velo's the serious yet stylish cyclist; one who knows bicycles and likes to shower regularly. But one that's far from pretentious.
I went into the shop fairly confident that this shop was going to live up to its reputation. And it did. I didn't expect to leave, though, feeling comfortable. And in a way, not so lost.
On the way home, scrolling through my recent call history on my phone, IBC showed up on my screen [yeah, I almost have that shop on speed dial]. If I lived here, though, I'm pretty sure that NYC Velo will definitely have that special place in my phonebook.

city slicker

I fell asleep in my Sidis today.
With my bike under me.
No, I wasn't on some insane 24 hour bike race [unfortunately]. I was on a bus, heading down to a once more familiar city, but one I've never biked in. Groggy from a four hour bus ride punctuated with fits of sleep, I climbed onto my bike for the first time in New York, NY.

In Chinatown, to be exact. Which was, predictably, crawling with pedestrians. Clipped in on a freewheel, I just managed to dodge some old ladies dragging groceries and middle aged men who have to be involved in less than legal business.
This is like Boston...on meth. Or pure PCP. While Boston may be sleepy and nearly deserted at 7am, I can't imagine biking in NYC can ever be as lethargic as my morning ride into South Station this morning. Even navigating the few short blocks from Chinatown to my sister's apartment was more fast-paced than anything in Boston.

My sister told me that I would probably feel stifled if I ever lived in NYC after seeing pictures of Lexington. An NYC bike virgin, I had agreed.
Stifled? Here? That would definitely take a few years.

kiki's delivery service

This movie is a must see.
Though less spectacular than "Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind" or "Castle in the Sky," "Kiki's Delivery Service" [the original Japanese title is "The Witch's Delivery Service"] has always been a secret favorite. A story about a witch that leaves her home to discover independence and make it on her own [with the most adorable black cat], she befriends a boy who rides a fixed gear and dreams of flying.
Small wonder I love the movie. But it gets even better. Kiki starts working as a courier [on her broom, of course] for a bakery, delivering cakes, bread, and all manner of baked goodies. She ends up losing her ability to fly at one point, though, due to her own self-doubt and insecurity.
I was definitely channeling Kiki yesterday. All I was missing, really, was a big, red bow in my hair [I even have her bangs now!]. Getting up way too early to find a still-sore knee, I still trotted out the show pony for the Bay State Bike Week ride to City Hall. And then, having gotten up at the asscrack of dawn, I stopped by 2nd Cup Cafe to guzzle an espresso.

Which meant the prospect of a nap then was out of the question. So I sat around restlessly, encountering writer's block here and there, until, spotting a particular poster in my room, I remembered a promise for blueberry muffins.
Erich had put aside the Embrocation Cycling Journal poster taped up at IBC for me, way back in March. It's May. This was one promise I could bust out in a few hours.

I got mixing and measuring. Ran out of sugar but made do [they didn't come out super sweet, but Dan M. described them as "delicious"]. Did laps between my computer and the oven as they baked; and after they cooled, they went into a box, which was then tucked into my bag. I forgot the red bow in my hair, but I delivered [to IBC].
There was a new chainring waiting for me too. And a new chain. And thus, a straight chain line [for once!]. There was even talk of training for 'cross season and jogging. On the way home, I contemplated how I would handle coming in DFL on my first 'cross race. Uncharacteristically, I think in a way I wouldn't care [as long as I didn't break anything in the process].
I figure, as long as I'm fast enough to deliver baked goods, that's good enough for me.
Kiki's Blueberry Muffins Adapted from this recipe.
For the streusel topping:
1 tablespoon cold unsalted butter 1/3 cup brown sugar 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/2 cup finely chopped walnuts
1. In a bowl, combine all of the streusel topping ingredients. 2. With your fingers, mix until you have a crumbly mixture. 3. Set aside if using immediately or store in the refrigerator.
For the muffins:
1/2 cup vegetable oil [or 1/4 cup oil and 1/4 cup applesauce] 1-1/3 cup packed brown sugar [I only used 1 cup] 1 tablespoon grated lemon zest 1 egg 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract 1 cup low fat plain yogurt 2-1/4 cups all-purpose flour 1/4 teaspoon salt 2-1/2 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1-1/2 cups blueberries [fresh or frozen]
1. Preheat the oven to 400F and line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners. If you don’t have paper liners butter and flour the muffin tin. 2. In a bowl, mix together the flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and cinnamon. 3. In another bowl, combine the oil, brown sugar, zest and egg. Once combined, stir in the buttermilk and vanilla extract. 4. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and mix well. Gently mix in the fruit. If the batter seems to liquidy, add a tiny bit more flour. The batter should be fairly stiff. 5. Spoon the batter into the muffin cups filling them right to the top. Divide the streusel topping equally among the muffins. 6. Bake for 15 minutes and then lower the temperature to 350 F and bake for an additional 12 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. 7. Cool the muffins in the pan for 10 minutes, then remove the muffins and let cool on a wire rack. 8. Package securely and deliver [to your local bike shop].