Saw this on TCU today! I got to ride with Joe up in Canada for a day this summer and he’s a great guy. Stoked to see such a clean edit.
I began bike commuting over a year ago. In addition to all of the new things I needed for my bike—rack, bags, etc.—I also needed to think more carefully about what I was wearing. Most of the people I saw on my morning commute were in full spandex, with reflector vests and I knew at the very least that I didn’t want to dress like that on my ride to and from work. Not that I have anything against spandex, but it always seems like a hassle to change in and out of work clothes, which creates another barrier to what would otherwise be an easy ride to and from work.
My first post! A couple weeks ago Muuqi and I took the flip cam out to Seattle’s U district, and here is the end result. Now that Muuqi has relocated back to Ashland expect future edits to contain more tripod shots. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think.
What: A slow ride to honor those who have fallen while astride a bike and to support each other while we’re out on the street.
When: Saturday, September 24th
Time: Meet at 3 pm, ride at 4.
Where: South Lake Union Park
If you ride a bike, if you know anyone who does, if you read the paper, if you check Twitter, if you surf teh intranets, you probably are aware of the aweful number of bicycle related deaths in a really short amount of time this year. “Streets is rough,” to quote one German exchange student whom I never met, yet heard plenty about. They are rough, both in pavement quality and in the ferocity of traffic and users. Please be safe out there. Please stay alive. Please think about coming out for the Safe Streets Social this coming Saturday.
Do it for me, because I won’t be here anymore. Do it for everyone else out there. Do it for yourself. Do it for those who aren’t with us anymore . . .
Hub and Bespoke is a cycle boutique located in the heart of the Fremont neighborhood of Seattle, WA. Opened in 2010, the shop aims to help people overcome “the common barriers to urban cycling” by offering clothing, products, insight, and advice to allow you to “bike in comfort and arrive in style.” In their own words, “We are not a bike shop.”
And thank goodness they’re not.
I’m leaving soon. I love Seattle quite a bit. I decided to go on a bike ride to see some favorite spots and vistas. It was a good ride. Check it out!
Capitol Hill is both a great and a horrible neighborhood. It’s on a hill, so everywhere you are heading is downhill to start, but always uphill when you head back home. It’s great, though, because you are treated to vistas anywhere and everywhere you look.
Interlaken park is one of those places that you stumble upon and can’t help but be like, “woah . . . where am I?”. Being able to get away from the city, while in the city, is a wonderful thing.
Seattle’s got some great hidden routes if you know where to find ‘em. Over the years I’ve enjoyed hunting down all the steepest, cobble-iest, and gravel-iest ones there are. When you’re locked into a city, getting some dirt under your tires can be a life-saver.
After Interlaken it was off to the Arboretum. The Arboretum is like Lithia Park. That’s really the only way I know how to even get close to actually describing it. It’s that cool.
It’s crazy how things sneak up on ya. I’ve been trying to cram as much into my last couple weeks here as possible, but as the countdown really starts to get towards moving day, there are more and more places and things I realize I want to see and do. Ho-hum. Looks like I’ll have to come back and visit.
. . . before I leave Seattle! How about Monday? If that doesn’t work for you, how about Wednesday?
Since I’m moving home to Oregon at the end of this week, I want to get out and enjoy this beautiful city. Doing that from the seat of a bike seems apropos and Monday and Wednesday evenings are cool.
If you are interested call, email, text, tweet . . . whatever. Monday evening at Cal Anderson park at 6 pm.
Wednesday evening at Volunteer park at 6 pm.
Routes aren’t exactly set in stone . . . or planned at all. Sort of depends on the group (if anyone shows up!).
Bonus points for wearing a “flannel” shirt
The term Golden Hour may be used in reference to two different things. Let’s talk about the first, first.
In photography the golden hour is the first and/or last hour of sunlight during the day. Leaving the science of why aside, it’s during these times that the light coming from the sun seems softer and warmer. The golden hour is when summertime picnics really hit that “epic” level. It’s when you look around and everything seems frozen in pre-nostalgic magic and time slows down. The golden hour is when, for no reason, you ears pick up the sound of music on the wind and your body and mind float along, carrying you swiftly and urgently into the present moment, where you should be and where you’ve always been. The golden hour opens your eyes to what is right in front of you, what you’ve been seeing all along, and fills you with joy.
In Seattle, our summers are a little bit like the golden hour. After waiting “all day” for our time in the warm sun, it comes in all of it’s belated and magnificent glory. We bask. When the summer hits in Seattle, people go on a feeding frenzy and don’t stop until the hour has ceased. The tedious waiting, the grey skies, the water hanging thick and heavy in the air, it all is forgotten for a second and yet drives us forward. The memory of the long winter and soggy evenings hangs in our minds, veiled and waiting. We are starved and dehydrated survivors stumbling across a desert of rain and when we find the river of golden light and warmth, even though it may only exist for a moment, we plunge in head first and swim and drink and bask. It’s in this hour that friendships are cemented forever. Memories are burned so deep into our mind that they’ll still radiate warmth and joy decades later. The golden hour, whether photographically speaking, or using it as a metaphor for summers in Seattle (or as life in general), is a time that is so short and yet so painfully beautiful that one can’t help but take advantage of it.
In medicine, the golden hour refers to the time a serious trauma victim has to live immediately following an accident. Although there is no proof that 60 minutes is that window, it’s more of a sorrowful euphemism for the idea that medics need to hurry the fuck up to save someone. Why do I bring this up after pontificating about a photographic reference that, to me, relates directly to life? Well . . . because sometimes life ends. Sometimes those melodic notes on the evening breeze are cut short to never be heard again.
At the time of me writing this, news has come of another cyclist dying in the Greater Seattle Area, which brings our toll of beloved friends having their lives cut short to too fucking many. Having lived in Seattle and Ashland, being someone who follows bicycle-related new in an overly-obsessive manner, I’ve NEVER experienced anything like this. The frequency with which people are dying out on public roads on their bicycles in the Puget Sound area is enough to almost make someone want to hang up their helmet forever – which is morbidly ironic because helmets exist to (hopefully) save your life.
I feel blessed to have many friends in this world. Every and any person who rides a bike is a person who I count as a friend. That is a lot of friends. You may have a lot of friends too . . . in fact I would bet money that you do, especially if you know where to look (everywhere). Everytime another cyclist dies I feel like Yoda in The Revenge of the Sith when the jedi are being hunted down and killed throughout the universe and he feels each and every death as a blow to himself. It’s heartbreaking and if I stop and think about it too much (read: at all) it’s unbearable.
As cyclists we exist in a realm of incredibly high risk: public roadways. We’re surrounded by large moving things that weigh a lot, can travel rather fast, and don’t always have a completely sound pilot at their wheel. That doesn’t mean that we don’t belong on the streets and it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be there. We all have to co-exist in a world that is inherently trying to kill us. As many of us have heard, we could all die at any moment . . . especially crossing the street. The world is not safe, and while that fact makes it all the more beautiful at times, it also makes it hard. Hard for those who are taken away and hard for those left to miss them.
If you don’t realize how sad and crazy it is that we’ve lost so many cyclists in such a short period of time, check out these links.
Riding a bike is dangerous. Many know this, some know it too well, some don’t know it well enough. I went on a typical Seattle “Golden Hour” ride yesterday, all day, and enjoyed every second of it. And I didn’t die. News of bicycle riders being killed is inspiration to keep riding, in their memory and for their spirit, but also a harsh reminder to be careful out there. Please, please, please remember that. Wear your helmet, use your brakes, be visible, make good decisions, be aware of your surroundings always. I can’t bear to lose more friends.
I made it down to Magnusson park to check out the last day of the bike polo action today and it was a blast. I wasn’t packing a camera, so I don’t have any super cool shots to share, but I can tell you that the action was great. East Vancouver won the title, but Seattle put in an EXCELLENT showing and almost made the final round. These cell phone pics will have to do.
A few random thoughts: