Sunday, June 24, 2007


{words by carey}

On my way to Minneapolis, MN last weekend (Raleigh was giving away 50 Coasting bicycles for BikeTown), Reed handed me the newest issue of Rouleur before we boarded the plane. I love this periodical; it's tasteful, sophisticated, inspirational, and graphicly beautiful. Anyhow, there was an article titled "Bicycling Smells Good." Ahh, I thought, I have been wanting to write about this for a very long time, as this is something that is truely unique about cycling long distances. The air becomes not only something you intake to sustain your ride; it's also a stimuli for one of our strongest senses, smell.

Back in November when I first started commuting to Raleigh, Brian and I would ride through this one section of South Park and the air was concentrated with a cologne type fragrence. "Wow, it isn't even Friday night and someone's ready to hit the town," we thought. Next day, we roll through the same spot about the same time - same cologne. It has been 8 months since those first commuting trips for me and the cologne is always there. We are baffled by its source and how even on a windy or rainy day it's still present in the air. In a funny way we love to ride by this spot just to see if the smell is still there - the day when it's gone will be an intresting one and I don't know how I am going to react.

They say smell is one of your strongest memory senses and taste is not far behind. Just a quick whiff of sage can bring visions of deserts and a climbing trip for me or the smell of evergreens can conjure up visions of a snowy night that was spent in Estes Park drinking the most amazing wine I have had in my life while 3 feet of snow accumulated outside. The list goes on and on.

It's wonderful that when I mount my bike morning and night to head to and from Raleigh I am making memories not only through photographs and movement, but also by the smells of our routes. In particular, I love it when it has rained and then the sun is out drying the wood of a lumber yard that we pass - the smell of the pine is great and it reminds me of chainsaws. I never expereince this when I drive into work. I guess it's yet another incentive, benifit, suduction (or whatever you want to call it) to ride your bike to work. It's a wonderful thing.


Thursday, June 21, 2007


{words brian photos and short movement carey}

When you go to meet your fellow commuters for a cup of ambition and the Barista over sleeps? Plan B.

Seattle is, as everyone knows, littered with coffee and espresso stands. Most of us ride past the corporate headquarters for both Starbucks and Tully’s on our daily ride. Unfortunately, once you pass All City Espresso in Georgetown the scene becomes very bleak. The heaven of coffee stands turns into a virtual purgatory the farther south we go to work, and we all know this. So All City was closed this morning. Why? We may never know. Many of us left the house without “fueling” counting on our shop to supply us with our fix. Quickly my mind scrambled for coffee stands…and came across the one stand that we all talk about but almost never stop at…Cowgirls Espresso. A little coffee stand attached to a Casino with more character than you can shake a dollar bill at that we pass everyday.

Upon arrival the familiar line up of construction vans and trucks were stretching around the side of the casino. Being on bikes we went straight for the walk up window, grabbed a stool and placed our orders to the Barista dressed in lacy underwear. The 15 minutes it took us to drink our coffee and watch the spectacle, that is Cowgirls, was interesting. Watching the cavalcade of Canyonero style SUVs waiting for the barista to either act excited to see them or flip them the bird and give them advice on their hygiene almost had my Americano coming out of my nose. The Americano isn’t bad by the way. No where near what we would have received at All City, but we wouldn’t have received the same show that we did at Cowgirls.

As we rode away I recall Busto commenting that we stayed 13 minutes too long of 15. Sometimes the fantasy of something is far better than the reality.

I crashed right there one time and my chin hit the curb.

I (carey) will leave you with a very raw, un-edited film clip of our ride in.


Wednesday, June 13, 2007


{words by carey - photographs by carey & brian}

When you aren't constrained by time and the brain is a little more perceptive, it makes for an enjoyable (and visual) ride home from work. As always CLICK IMAGES to enlarge.

{Since I have been hit twice this year by cars, I figured I would switch over to the Lifecycle}

{Brian thought it would be nice to cool off }

{It's hard to give up a good thing}

{I tried to get through some mucky trees but failed 1/2 way through}

{Raleigh Professional and the skyline}

{Roadside gems}

{Roadside gems II}

{We passed a skate park that was vacant,so we did some exploring - I must say the skeleton is pretty bad ass!}

{Brian taking advantage of the walls}

{I tried to hit the walls...}


Thursday, June 7, 2007


{words by carey}

As urban cyclists it seems we are always on the perimeter - on the perimeter of the lane, on the perimeter of thoroughfares (riding trails), on the perimeter of a car infested culture, and in some ways on the perimeter of life.

The dictionary definition for perimeter is a limit or boundary that defines the scope of a particular process or activity.

Somebody recently tipped us off that just 30ft to the right of the busy road we usualy ride is another that rarely has traffic. On Monday, I rode this alternate route with Brian and Tim; indeed, it was deserted and lacked the whiz of speeding cars on our left. The next day I noticed this road is named PERIMETER RD. I seemed to unconsciously attach this idea of a perimeter to all my doings for the rest of that day. I like being on the perimeter of things rather than on the inside of them - being on the outside seems to allow for observation, freedom, rebellion, exploration, creation, etc. As soon as you cross the line and enter into that focused "process or activity" time speeds up, space becomes tighter, and you just mash until the end. Ever since Tuesday we have been riding on the perimeter and seeing things we have been passing far too long.



We have ridden by these large concrete structures all winter - they will soon be lifted by a large yellow machine that has been building a light rail.

{perimeters are everywhere}

Friday, June 1, 2007


{words by carey}

{crazy bike sculpture in Bend, OR - camp fire - dusty dry trails (yes!)}

It has been four days since Tuesday and four days prior to that I was in Bend, Oregon; it's been a week of catching up and recalibrating myself to city life. The four days spent in Bend were epic: two 30 mile mountain bike rides back to back on my single speed XXIX (which, by the way, is a stellar bike; until I can afford a custom frame this is my bike of choice), four days of camping, fire off-road skids (click on the link and you will see some film shorts I put together), river jumping (that literally took my breath away), an endo (I ended up with two fist-sized bruises on each thigh and a jammed shoulder, but somehow was well enough to ride the next day), and an escape from everyday life - it was awesome.

{a little butterfly was fascinated with my hand &
we were fasinated with the logs}

I arrived back home and got a small illness which forced me to drive to work for 2 days. The weather in Seattle lately has actually spelled S-U-M-M-E-R, which means about 4 more hours on the bike in the evenings than usual. The ride in yesterday was glorious and a stop at All City coffee was much needed. It's amazing how much I love the mountains and camping but at the same time love a perfectly pulled shot of espresso. I mention this because it's been a hard week adjusting to the structure that I live in everyday; it doesn't quite compare to a long weekend full of dynamic mountain biking, meeting 13 new people each possessing a new story, seeing the cosmos, sitting around a campfire - man, it's been hard getting back into the asphalt world of structure.

But, it all disappeared as soon as I mounted my bike. I love that this machine can pop me out of any doubt, any sadness, any bum mood (SWOBO hit the nail on the head with their "how to avoid the bummer life" motto for their blog). Bikes are so great - they make us healthy, strong, agile, beautiful, rad, happy, they are tons of fun, they make us hurt, are community builders, and an answer to the world's problems. Simply put, they are bad ass.

Enjoy the weekend.