Local Bike Shop
I was only going to get one but she made a logical pitch and I was distracted by the aroma and dazzled by the display so I did what she said and ate a hearty 2 slice pizza root beer lunch thursday at Sizzle Pie because its across the street from the office and a helluva deal at $10 for the package and the pizza is top notch delicious with the correct chewy crust that isn’t too bready and the toppings are far beyond pepperoni. nothing against pepperoni but this place gets exotic to the point I don’t know what they’re talking about but if they put it on a pizza I will eat it because they are professionals after all.
Ate it all, whatever it was, every last crumb, wiped the grease off the pie hole and still had a half hour on the lunch timer so i took a gambol around downtown Hillsboro. Nice downtown, not too small, not too big, you can cross against the light and not get run down. Some drivers even stop on a green if they see you standing there.
Natural inclination pulled me towards the Washco Bikes Co-op, tiny two door storefront operation a block east and around the corner where you can find all sorts of gently used bicycle treasures. it’s where I found the Schwinn for the electric bike project. didn’t have anything specific in mind other than it feels good to be in a bike shop and especially this one where the atmosphere is friendly and they dont seem to mind if you spend or not. I have similar feelings about used book stores. they’re comfortable.
Pawing through the bin of handlebar stems in the Parts Room at the back of the shop looking for something with a steeper angle than whats currently on the bike for a bit more upright posture.
This is where I tend to gravitate, pedals in this bin, cranks hanging on the wall next to fenders and tires. Derailleurs, brakes, brake levers, handlebars…all the good stuff. And it smells nice. a hint of grease and rubber perfume hanging in the air. would make a nice candle.
i’m not finding anything that looks much different than whats on the bike but i keep at it anyway. why not, got the whole place to myself and time on the clock. no rush.
i hear the front door chime, in walks an old guy with a bike frame under his arm. He heads straight back to the Parts Room, running the gauntlet past the double decker rack of prepared bikes, and starts rattling through the array of forks stacked against the bin table i’m up against trying this one and that one into the head tube of his frame, gauging fit.
He’s butted right up against the personal space, not imposing, he knows boundaries. And i know he wants to get at what i’m standing in front of and I’m just killing time. slight creep of mental pressure and I am about ready to relinquish the zone because he has a true project and I’m just taking up space and should head back to work anyway.
He says Are you taking all the good ones?
A gentle hint, a nudge.
I wait, one thousand one, one thousand two, slowly turn, look him in the eye over the top of my readers with a hint of sinister squint, and count another couple thousands, and finally say in a measured slightly defiant tone.
That’s right, all of them.
He grins, I grin. I step back from the bin table and say, Have at it, good luck with the hunt. We’ll see, he says.
Four hours later i rode the bike home from work in the rain in the dark and it was nice because i have great rain gear, new brake pads, oversized and overextended fenders, excellent reflectivity, heightened situational awareness, a rear view mirror attached to the goggles, a route that is mostly residential, and lighting like a BNSF locomotive that stops most motorists in their tracks.
