This is a 1987 Shogun Alpine GT. A steel touring bike frame that’s heavier than the day is long. It cost me $22.50 at BikeWorks in 2013 when it came home with me one day strapped to the CETMA, not because I needed another heavy steel bike but because it was only $22.50.
It’s been through a few iterations from single speed to 3 x 7 with satisfying Suntour thumb shifters on that Ritchey Logic triple. But it’s never been a “go-to” bike for me. Never my first choice.
I’ve found that I can mess around with bikes’ setups, cycling through handlebars, saddles, shifters and tires until one day it all comes together and finally feels like it should feel, the way it was meant to be — for me.
For example, my 91 Rock Hopper has been through several handlebars: flat, riser, super sweep, cruiser until finally I got a full-on full-retail klunker bar and now it feels like it should. Heavy and slow and smooth and smile inducing.
The Shogun is slowly making its way into another iteration. Single-speededly. It’s always been the red headed step child in the bike room. The Bad News Bears kid at the end of the bench. The last player the coach calls up for a full fendered rainy day ride.
Recently I pulled the wheel set including the tires off the Shogun and slapped it on the Allez. Which left the Shogun hobbled, helpless and sad. More sad than usual. That Peter-to-Paul parts swap set off a sequence of events to get the Shogun back on the road rolling wheels it was built for, 27 inch. No not that 27.5 - 650b horseshit marketing 584 bsd. The real deal 27” aka 630 bsd aka old school.
One can half-ass a 27” frame with 700c wheels but the brakes will never feel like they should unless some long-reach adjustments are made. Cost-benefit analysis comes into play on a bike that cost $22.50. My Soma, built for 27” wheels, has been rolling 700c for 25 years and it feels great because of its long-reach dual pivot brakes.
Here & now in July of 2024 this Shogun is starting to roll with a 27 front wheel from BikeWorks laced to an Origin8 hub. And a 27 rear wheel from Recycled Cycles laced to a flip-flop Origin8 hub. I got some used 27” tires from BikeWorks for $0.00 because they’re in sad shape. They’ll get me through this test ride phase and then I’ll need some new tires. That schrader tube I found didn’t work out so I had to actually use a schrader-presta adapter on the rear wheel and put the Alor skull cap back into my memento mori display.
You might think a 41 x 17 sounds a bit small for a single speed. However, tweak your gear inch calculator to 27” wheels on a steel tank with 175mm cranks. Then pretend you’re an old crusty commuter that lives at the top of a lot of hills and walk a mile in my shoes.
digging for old kickstands I found this single speed haiku in issue #16 from 2003 featuring a photo of a Casati track bike that I coaster-braked out on yellow deep Vs.
Then today a few more pieces of this Shogun fell into place including a ⅛ chain on a 3/32 chainring.
The other other night I was digging through a Steelcase file cabinet drawer in a pile of zines and other random shit searching for old issues of kickstand to send to Cat. I discovered very few kickstands. However I did discover Mobile City #5 and I chucked it in my bag to hand off to Alistair. But the next day before I handed it off I actually took the time to read it. Much more time than I devoted to it in 1999. This zine with contributions from messengers from all over the country is a great example of bike messenger talent. Not just a bunch of sweaty alcoholics but a variety of writers, poets, artists, photographers and musicians that may or may not be alcoholics too.
Mobile City was quite literary and chock full of great stuff. One of its editors and big contributors Stephen Gibson went to Tufts undergrad then onto UW for an MFA in creative writing. He’s no slouch
This brings to mind past conversations with Cat about printing the internet. Taking digital content and compiling a book. A book printed on paper. It also brings to mind the Tufts University Jumbos.
Discussing Mobile City with Alistair brought up the concept of digitizing old paper publications and the difficulty of locating lost zines on the internet because they’re not on the internet. No one ever digitized them.
I believe Matt Case is the only human that ever had a complete set of kickstands which I compiled as an alleycat prize and he promptly snagged it for himself because it was his alleycat.
I'm not even done with it yet and it's only the O7 month of the year but it's over, it's the one, no question, sincerely for real, really.
Looking back, six or so years ago bro, we discussed Williams’ 99 Stories of God, which is also a great book. As I page through this new book, I wanted to go back to the old one again. Front to back. Back to back. Side by side. Through and through. However I think I already gave it away or passed it on to a friend.
As I’m working through Concerning the Future of Souls I find myself taking mental notes on new or new-to-me authors, poets, philosophers, mathematicians, Welsh mythology, Egyptian gods, inventors, plants, animals, dunce caps, Pythagorean cups and events that Williams refers to. As well as a list of quirky vocabulary also new-to-me. Inspiring more reading and research and pondering.
Taken in 99 relatively small bites, there’s a lot to chew on. Very short stories distilled down to oh so few words but saying oh so much. This book rocks.
At work I overheard a conversation between a couple coworkers about a blown out Shimano 10-speed shifter. A shifter they made for only one year. A shifter that is not compatible with any other Shimano set up. And I said “I hate that shit. That’s such bullshit”
Then Alistair said, “don’t make Mark put on his Grant Petersen cap and go on a 30-minute rant about friction shifting…” and I smiled and nodded.
In 2012 when Just Ride came out I was a former bike messenger, a sleep-deprived father and a crusty bike commuter commuting somewhere between Mad Fiber and BikeWorks. I read through it quickly and put it on the shelf. For me, a cranky old school steel bike guy, it was like preaching to the choir.
Here and now it’s 2024 and Bicycle Sentences just came out. I read through it a couple times and then I was inspired to go back to Just Ride and read it again. Once more with feeling. I’m still a cranky old school steel bike guy, but now I’m even older and crankier and it speaks to me in new ways, different ways. I’m not just part of the choir, nodding along with the preacher. I’m not just drinking the Kool-Aid. Grant Petersen knows what he’s talking about reguarding the racer-non racer thing and the bike industry.
With Just Ride refreshingly fresh in my mind I saw an old silkscreen in a new way and made a few just RIDE postcards.
Yesterday at Free Range Cycles I bought this handy little item with its very specific purpose. It’s just one part of a sequence of events unfolding in my garage involving a front wheel from BikeWorks, a rear wheel from Recycled Cycles, as well as a bunch of bike parts I’ve had sitting around. It’s been a while since I’ve wrenched on a bike. I’ll tell you all about it someday.
The next day I discovered two brand new valve adapters in a small parts bin in my garage. I also discovered a 700 x 35 schrader tube, which eliminated the need for an adapter and allowed me to utilize one of the skull caps Alor gave me many years ago. There are very few schrader tubes in my wardrobe so I jumped at the chance to use one. The sequence of events continues to slowly unfold
This Charles Taylor book appeared on my porch a couple weeks ago and I still don’t know who sent it to me. But thank you to YOU that did. It’s like a grad school seminar on poetry pent up within its 600 pages. I have not cracked it yet but I plan to slog through it, late July into August sitting in a chair in the LIFE SCIENCES BUILDING sipping iced coffee and pretending that I’m in grad school lost in the wrong part of campus with an electric ass bathtub parked nearby…
…and that one-of-a-kind mug you see, has made it into heavy rotation for my morning coffee. YOU who left it in the little free library, thank you YOU, I appreciate it, in more ways than one.
My summer reading library is getting thick, with Charles Taylor, that new Joy Williams book that 37 reminded me of, the New Yorker, the IOWA Review, FENCE, Poetry, various random free stuff as well as the Elliott Bay Book Store book club books gifted to me by my mom, I need to get to work.
As Junior and Junior Junior were getting restless and poking around the garage yesterday I finally took a swing at the three chunks of wood that have been staring at me for months. With two cats, two dogs and two kids there’s no “perfect time” to bust out a silkscreen project. But a warm Wednesday evening in July seemed like an OK time.
These scraps of 2 x 6 were resting in the garage left over from the construction of a raised garden bed. With some hinges salvaged from an old set of bi-fold doors, I plan to link the three parts together and call it art. Call it a triptych. It’s a work in progress. A bit hasty, a little sloppy, sort of slapdash. It didn’t turn out as amazing as it looked in my mind. But it’s not done yet. Or is it the thought that counts?
The gold paint fades away on plain wood when it’s not catching the light just right. And I like that. The viewer has to make an effort to take it all in. When they’re linked together the viewer may never see all three words simultaneously. They’ll need to manipulate the panels or the light source. Upon first glance this looks like three scraps of wood. Because it is. You’ve seen that gold reflect-effect on the plain cardboard postcards I’ve made recently too.
I’d like to think this is a practice run, a scale model for a much larger triptych made from plywood panels linked with beefy oversized gate hinges and much more complicated colorful designs.
Here’s where I remind you that Lane Kagay should be credited with the ONE LESS CARE phrase. Just like Robert Arzoo is responsible for the COFFEE-BEER CONTINUUM. Just like the Wamsleys get the PILDERFLOSSER. I didn’t make that shit up, I'm just running with it.
word
3 days later I slapped on some hinges. Hinges scrounged from hollow core bi-fold doors that once hid a washer & dryer. These hinges tie it all together in more ways than one. It's personal. It's history. It's in-situ-resource-utilization. It's one less care. It's full-circle round-trip out & back...
...now I can put it to rest on a shelf to collect dust
As a utility cyclist rolling along the coffee-beer continuum I can safely say that I’ve been dehydrated since May 12, 1997.
On a recent trip to Rip City, Steve introduced me to DripDrop. It’s a powdered dehydration relief drink. And it does the trick. With 3x the electrolytes and half the sugar of your average sports drink. As I slug down a pint of this stuff I’m reminded of PDX.
Craig Etheridge introduced me to Nuun. But on my one and only trip to Vegas for Interbike in 2016, all I consumed for 3 days was beer and Nuun and I believe that weekend turned me off of that product.
I have no recollection of the events in question and as usual I am without sufficient information and therefore can neither confirm nor deny any allegations…
…but Fuckin A+++
it’s good to have friends…
…friends that can nonchalantly peel off magnets and hand them off for a second or third or fourth iteration, another life taken out of context and put back in, you know, reimagined in various ways that no one ever imagined magnetically sticking sticky
Back in 1994ish I wrote a letter to the editor of the Bellingham Herald in response to an Op-Ed piece ripping on scofflaw cyclists. I actually lived in the 98225 B-Ham 1993-1995ish and I went through the motions of being on the bicycle advisory committee while working at Casa Que Pasa and the Whatcom Pathology Lab. No JOKE. Really. For real. Ask Dr J Lonner and Robert Arzoo. My letter was published in the Herald and the gist of it was that we’re not all just blowing through red lights, some lights will never change for a cyclist because those inductive loop detectors were not set up to pick up little old bicycles in the early 90’s Whatcom County.
They’re still not sensitive to bikes here and now here and there everywhere. So use your best judgment.
I cut out that published letter and stuck it in a 3-ring binder with my two other greatest achievements. However, here and now I cannot locate said binder. If I could I would gladly photo bro the shit out of it and put it right here.
Just the other day and many many many many many many many days in past I’ve watched sadsack cyclists post up in left turn lanes in the midst of six lane arterials as if they’re law abiding citizens waiting their turn for their turn when in reality they’re risking their lives waiting for a turn that will never come.
Run that light or weasel over onto the curb in the crosswalk and cross like a ped.
I didn’t coin this term, Emily and Mark did. But I’m running with it all the way. All the way way to that future coffee table book co-authored with Dr 37 Mike. It’s not just a dental pick. It’s a dental pick spotted in the wild, where it’s not supposed to be. Chucked down on the ground. On your daily walk, interrupting your train of thought as you move along your habitrails. Once you see them, you can’t unsee them. You cannot untrain your eye to not spot them everywhere all the time.
The other other day as I approached the Big Time bike rack a guy who was waiting outside for his to-go food said “can I ask you a question?” in the half beat pause it took to look toward him my mind scrolled through ten years of messenger work and the limitless possibilities, the unquantifiable number of stupid questions in existence in addition to the imponderable number of questions yet to be posed ::: elevator conversations, tourist directions, Pike Place pointers, theories on exercise and or fresh air, geography, history, street addresses, parking garage queries, legal advice, bike bullshit blather, weather banter, tattoo questions… …and then I said “sure”
He said “how did you come up with the time on your watch tattoo?”
I said “3:33, three threes can’t be wrong. and it’s actually right twice a day”
all the while I was thinking how did you even see my watch? People are strange. Am I on an elevator at Two Union? What year is this?
Then I checked and the actual time was approaching 3:33 and I smiled to myself because it was Big Time time, big time.
It’s not about the big purple electric ass bathtub. It’s about the discarded dental pick. Nothing says UW Sports Medicine like a quick floss & chuck before returning to work or before your appointment. Rehab continues on that blown out ACL after a pile of spicy chicken yakisoba or an especially great caesar salad: floss & chuck.
This Soma Competition is 43 years old and I’ve had it for 25. So many stories, so many iterations. CETMA racks and Wald baskets. From Bike Works, to Counterbalance Bikes, to Bike Smith, to Free Range, to the Velo Store. To UBI. From Montlake to Aaron's to Perfect Wheels. From WA Legal to Seattle Legal to WA Legal and back to Seattle Legal. To Mad Fiber and full circle roundtrip back to Bike Works. That .833 stem has been on there since I got it from Charles at Wright Bros about 24 years ago.
