I’d like to think of this woman bracing herself against a wall on the backside of Benaroya Hall being blasted by wind and rain and cursing her existence while pondering a move to Austin or Boise or Iowa City. FUCK FUCK FUCK THIS FUCKING FUCK… …FUCK SEATTLE. But she’s not just holding onto any old wall, she’s posted up on the wonderful wonderful wonderful wall. But of course, that’s all in my mind. As this is a stock photo from an old psychology textbook that I’ve probably already shared with you, more than once.
Today this photo jumped out at me, again, for some reason. Maybe because my socks are still soaked from Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday too.
Sunrise: 7:45
Sunset: 4:15
Bathed in an atmospheric river of rain it doesn’t really matter. Ask me about my conspicuity. Don’t ask me if it’s raining.
Alistair sent me this yesterday and it brought on some flashback whiffs of acetone and phantom carbon fiber slivers in all five fingers of my non-dremel tool hand.
If you make it through the talking talkity talk you just might see some still shots of your friends in the end. The shot I took of Peter’s bike 12 years ago is right behind Benjamin Hall at UW, spitting distance from the Mailing Services Mothership. Who knew?
got the triptych. Pausing briefly just to see a man about a horse. You know, on the Ave, that man about that elephant. Sincerely for real, really. I saw an elephant painting at ye olde surplus store yesterday for $3 and nothing says Big Time like an elephant says Big Time. So I bought it and hand delivered it to the proprietor in a large plastic bag to fend off the rain, leaving the price tag in place to add authenticity. An early Christmas present delivered via bicycle.
This threepeat compilation took longer than expected because I got a flat tire on the Specialized. A slow leak on a Friday's commute home. Perfect timing. If there is such a thing as a perfectly timed flat tire. It took me 17 days to get around to fixing it. That’s laziness and the luxury of having 5 commuter bikes to choose from. Four with full fenders.
When I hit for the cycle, you’ll see these shots again.
Operating under the assumption that I’m the only person you know with a Don Cockroft card, or two, stapled to the wall of their garage. Cockroft was a kicker for 13 seasons with the Cleveland Browns. The first 9 of those seasons he was both the punter and the kicker.
His last game in the NFL was the infamous Red Right 88. January 4th, 1981. A playoff game between the Browns and the Raiders. The game lives on as a bad memory in the string of bad sports memories for Cleveland fans. In that game, Cockroft missed two field goals, had an extra point blocked and the snap was muffed on another extrapoint. The coaches were not feeling too confident going for a field goal to win the game. Years later Cockroft revealed how bad of shape he was in that day, with two herniated discs and the fact that he needed four epidurals to make it through the season.
I started collecting football cards in 4th and 5th grade. I have vague memories of Jim Plunkett, Lester Hayes, Brian Sipe and Ozzie Newsome. But I have no recollection of Don Cockroft. These football cards inspired me to learn a little history.
Big Time time. Big Time. Celebrating 35 years in business. With a slight Purple & Gold variation on the classic logo theme. Nothing says happy anniversary like a black hoodie.
got this professionally framed photo (24” x 30”) yesterday for only $7.49 at Ye Olde Surplus Shoppe. Now I just need to get a coworker to drive it to Skyway someday after work.
One of you cycling fans out there can probably tell me what year this shot was taken. I'm guessing 1997, plus or minus three years.
Using a reusable cup not for the 7 cent your-own-cup discount but because I’m single-handedly saving the planet one throw away cup at a time. Somewhere between here and there last week, I lost the lid to my favorite coffee cup. Which isn’t really a big deal except when I want to ride away before I finish my coffee and it splashes all over my ankles until it all splashes out and then I have no more coffee and my socks are wet.
Visiting my favorite thrift store recently seeking another other coffee cup I came upon a polished steel nearly newly new 12 ounce Grey Goose vacuum sealed tumbler for $1.74. It hits the spot. With the look and feel of a tall can it holds 12 ounces and it fits right in on my continuum. Full on phantom nostalgia syndrome. Full of hot coffee feeling like a cold beer. Holding on and standing by in the rain wondering why. It fits right in on my Profile Design cup holder too with the assistance of a child-size pilderwasser bracelet to snug it up. My last coffee cup was rather short & stout so it blew the bottle cage out. extended exstruded extrapolated. The cute little pw bracelet is reigning it back in. If you zoom in you’ll see the unmistakable letters of the live-wrong bracelets Bill Brady brought to RAGBRAI more than once. I'm wearing one as we speak (as seen in the postcard photos below) I just happen to have a ziplock bag full of those things sitting around waiting for a job to do. A job like this. Another example of in situ resource utilization…
Strategically stuck all across Iowa in late July. Thank you Chris Murray. Sporadically stuck in other cities and towns all over the country throughout the year. Thanks again Chris Murray.
Q: is this heaven?
A: no. it’s Iowa
Like it’s 1989. Nothing says baseball like a Kevin Costner movie says baseball.
Q: is this real life?
A: yes. it’s Applied Physics bro
You know, Henderson Hall at 1013 NE 40th Street. You’ve been by it a million times even if you never paid attention to the name. Tucked in the northeast armpit of the University Bridge, a stone's throw from the Wall of Death, on your way to Fremont or Recycled Cycles. I strategically stuck this sticker many moons ago and it keeps on keeping on keeping right pointing the way.
“How’d you like to make $14 the hard way?” –Caddyshack
The cost of living is riding on a vector that’s out of control in both magnitude and direction. So I’m not sure what the going rate is these days in the 98105 on Boat Street or even the 98118 on Ferdinand Street, but I got these for $5. Perhaps only because Andy Voight rang me up.
To the untrained eye these look like a pair of beat down brake levers. But those in-the-know know these levers will last another 20 years. These levers kick ass.
110 years ago Duchamp stuck a fork in a stool, mounted a wheel and called it art
25 years ago I was bombing down Denny on the way to work. A guy in a Cadillac was messing with me. Perhaps he was angry that he had to pass a cyclist at 8 in the morning. I believe he got in front of me and intentionally slammed on his brakes in the middle of the Denny descent over I-5.
I stacked it up onto the back of his car. The guy got out looking a bit surprised. I didn’t say anything except “my bike scratched the shit out of your car” When I climbed off the trunk and picked up my bike, I spun the front wheel and it was fine so I thought my bike was fine too. I rode away. But it only took a moment on the bike to realize the fork was fucked.
That’s the fork with the unique rake that wound up in my version of Bicycle Wheel.
Counterbalance Bikes is closing in a week or so. I plan to make one final visit to say hello - goodbye to Peter as I roll along the U-Village Silvercloud Burke Gilman route on an electric assist bathtub.
there goes the neighborhood
there goes the local bike shop
Adam, Jake & Peter opened Counterbalance at 2 West Roy Street in 2000. Peter took over and it moved to the Blakeley Burke Gilman spot formerly known as Ti Cycles II.
You can read more herewhere the comments are often more entertaining than the content
Digging through the photographic memory I found these shots of Sam and Todd during a Boat Street Crit with C. Forest Hoag lurking in the background. 17 years later I often find myself loitering on Boat Street and that building in the back is UW Box #355100 but you can address it to #355020.
Jake racing CMWC Seattle 2003
this may or may not be a Tyler Goldsmith photo but that is Adam at the Store Room in the late 90s
So the boss says to me three weeks ago you delivered this box to this mailroom do you remember it? glazed over I stare not really at him but at the empty space off in the distance over his left shoulder pausing and waiting for a beat or two expecting a punch line like are you fucking kidding me? I delivered a shit ton of boxes in the past three weeks why would I remember any of them… …if the barcode scan says I delivered it then I guess I delivered it but that does not mean I remember it what day is it?
