the first drop off

You people need to stop moving.

Start parking your bikes and stop watching them. Stop coming out of buildings right when I pass your bike with this brown paper bag in my sweaty hands. Stop not hanging out at all the places you usually hang out at but chose not to hang out at today.

Come on. Were all my paranoid fears of being u-lock-whipped because while I was trying to leave this on a bike and someone thought I was fucking with their ride totally unfounded? Were the liquid poop inducing thoughts of getting beaten to a pulp by a bunch of cyclists because they think I was trying to scratch their bikes completely crazy?

So the hat wasn't left by the court house (where this picture was taken). A (unlucky?) messenger rolled out just as I got there. Espresso Royale was completely deserted.

The Otherside Cafe wasn't. So the owner of a black bike with a Revolution Bicycles head badge and orange deep Vs got this one.

More people need to leave their pretty bikes completely unattended.

first s-class bike hat

I'm letting this one go.

Part of me doesn't want to. Probably because I'm OCD.

All the future mistakes bother me. The size won't be right, the shape will look weird on whoever finds it, the fabric's...kinda shiny, the brim's bound to tear, the blind hem will come undone, the everything that's wrong with this.

Yeah, I'm OCD.

But then again, they say perfection's pretty boring.

So maybe it'll tear or whoever finds it will throw it out or cover it in pins or patches or abuse/wear it until it falls apart. Whatever happens, it'll be completely unpredictable. Maybe whoever finds it will even send me a picture of them wearing it. Maybe they'll even like it. Maybe I'll stop obsessing. All of which would be awesome.

And (imperfectly) perfect.

intro

First, it was about the speed.

Then the hills.

Then the snow, sleet, hail, rain, wind, and blazing sun. Then the cars and traffic. Then the mileage.

And then, finally, again, it was about the speed.

But then, inevitably, there were tumbles, slips, and falls. And only then did I realize that it wasn’t about the speed, the mileage, exactly how masochistic you were in riding through a Boston winter, or how well you can play in traffic.

Because when your face decides it suddenly wants to make out with the pavement, or when you’re stuck 5 miles from home with a flat and no spare tube, it’s really the people that make cycling worth it.

It’s the road warrior you mockingly bust past everyday on that stretch of road, or the hipster that you secretly hate because he has an amazing track stand, or the girl on the cruiser who can change a flat faster than you can on your own 21 speed. It’s the cyclists that stop to ask if everything’s okay when you suddenly end up in an embarrassing tangle of steel/cro-mo/carbon in the middle of the street that makes you get up, knees and elbows bleeding, and jump back onto your ride.

And that’s why I’m doing this project. That’s why I’m making bike hats – fully lined and finished by hand – and giving them away, entirely for free, at random places all across Boston. They’ll be left on bicycles, in cafes, bike shops, maybe even in messenger bags. Sure, I could probably sell these, but why not give them away to the people that make riding worth it?

So what’s in it for me? Mostly just a selfish desire to see and learn from the people who find these hats. Which is why I’m asking anyone who finds an s-class hat to email me with a picture of themselves wearing it, which will be posted up on this site. And if it doesn’t fit, pass it on to a friend.

As long as they ride, that is.