It's almost 11:30 on a Friday night. I have decided to create my first blog, a blog for me and for my shop, Recycled Bicycles. Yes, I am probably bipolar. Ok, I am.
I know you are all waiting for a haiku, but first the big shop-news. It looks like Recycled Bicycles may close for the winter as soon as Saturday, December 9th. When I re-open, I may be in a new location. Sweet Peas will be moving to the east half of the building and the west half (including my northwest corner) may have a new tenant any day now.
This means several things in the short term. First, I need to reduce my inventory. All new bicycles and accessories are reduced. We are talking cash flow, so I am willing to sell everything near cost. Make me an offer! I have two Birias left, one Cadillac AM 2.4, a half-dozen or so Sun cruisers, and 3 Cayne Uno messenger bikes. I also have men's and women's cold weather clothing by Bellwether (jackets, long sleeved jerseys, tights with pads, balaclavas (no nuts), and clear rain jackets.
Second, if I do get the boot, I will still be available for mobile repair service. I can pick up and drop off your bike, I can bring my stand and tools to your place, or you can bring your bicycle to me at my house. Easy. I will also be able to get any parts and accessories you need within 48 hours. Easy.
Third, I had planned to do some winter riding workshops. These will probably not happen. However, if you have any questions about how to dress, how to ride, or how to set up a bicycle for winter riding, just ask!
OK, baiku time. For those of you unfamiliar with the form, baiku is haiku (three lines of poetry with 5, 7, and 5 syllables) from a bicyclist's perspective. The objective of really good haiku is to "remove all subjective pre-consciousness" from your poetry, and just write about what is really there, usually with a reference to nature. Think Zen. If you get it right, you achieve enlightenment. Also, it helps to ride a fixed gear bicycle. So, here is one of my favorites. Thanks for reading.
East winds, canyon mouth
Bend aspen and alder west
An unseen push felt
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