YES WE HAVE MOVED.

While I might sit here and wax poetic about the urban energy that flows through our new neighborhood and how Wicker Park/Bucktown is like the heart that beats cool-as-hepcat life blood through the veins of this city I decided to skip all that and…wait a minute “Google” says we are still on Armitage?  Then never mind.  We never moved.  My mistake.  I like Lincoln Park too.

KIDDING.  Despite what Google would have you believe for the past few days, we have indeed moved our shop over to Wicker Park. Seriously, we are open for business in Wicker Park and we couldn’t be happier about it.  With all the good food, drink and entertainment in the new neighborhood it’s easy to overlook the best part of our new digs.  The bikes.  The bikes are everywhere.  Every conceivable style of bike with every conceivable style of rider.  It’s amazing.  And of course we are happy to tune-up, fix, adjust and help with all of them.

Our address is now 2010 W Pierce Ave, Chicago IL 60622.  Sorry for all the confusion.  If you have questions on where we are, how to get here or if you want to know why the theme song to the Might Morphin’ Power Rangers is a magnificent piece of music (please ask for Chris and reference “Power Rock” if you are calling about that), just give us a call at 773-697-7618.

I find myself in a quandary. I've had this dilemma for a few years now. It's a thorny one, with which I've found myself wrestling on the bike, on foot, in cafes and bars, or anywhere else bike traffic is visible. This dilemma bears on a sensitive idea; one we frequently debate at the shop but have barely touched in the blog: style.

I will not be pretending an ability to render any sort of objective judgment on bicycle or sartorial elegance in this post, nor will I project my own values onto the simpler question I'll address here. You won't hear me tell you to wear “fashionable-three-quarter-length-pants” and certainly nothing so tired as to stop wearing neon helmet covers (even if I try to avoid them). I won't be debating the stylistic merits – or demerits, depending on your point of view – of colored tires, matching fenders, or ground effect lighting, or telling you to wear jeans on your training ride. Use equipment that works well for what you're doing, and wear what you want to wear.

The basic intersection of style and bicycles has little to do with whether you prefer denim or tweed or linen, and even less to do with what you choose to ride. The crux lies in how your riding influences your style. However you choose to express yourself through your appearance – be it clothing, accessories, hair, or makeup – that expression must necessarily extend to the hours you spend on your bicycle, and if you're reading this blog those hours are likely not few. How do you let your chosen appearance change when you ride? If you commute, do you change your clothes to do so, or do you wear your normal clothing? By extension, do you feel that you look like yourself while you ride, or do you feel like a bike person? How do you feel about that? The answers to these questions can come in many forms, and will be dictated by everything from meteorology and physiology to geography and demography. In fact, what you actually wear matters much less than how you feel about it. Comfort and aesthetics are different for everyone, but the more it rains the more important it becomes to like your raingear.

Back out on the street it's easy to see who's comfortable and who's not. Not the cyclist passing by who wore the clothes most appropriate for the weather, but the one that knows they look good. Whatever “good” may actually mean for that particular rider, it's pretty obvious when someone hasn't compromised their style to ride their bike, or at least feels at home in what they've chosen to wear. Conversely, it's quite painful to see someone living on their bike who obviously doesn't enjoy what they've ended up wearing. There seems to be an industry-wide assumption that when we swing a leg over a top tube we don't get to look like anybody except “bike guy.” Whether you're dressing like a Boeing supercommuter, a couture model, or a (hardcourt bike polo) Guardian, I'm a fan of choices. Anyone that has been able to see past an industry that tells them to wear a uniform is being a vitally important kind of cycling advocate- they're showing everyone one less sacrifice that must be made to ride a bike. When you roll out happy about how you look, you show each person standing on the sidewalk next to their car that they can do the same.

At last this brings me back to my quandary. I feel quite strongly about this subject, to the point that I would love to dispense heartfelt praise and excited high-fives to more than a few strangers on the street. Despite my utter sincerity, our culture isn't very comfortable – especially in Seattle – with that sort of behavior, and honestly there have been awkward moments. I'd love to be able to tell someone that I think they're doing a great job making cycling look stylistically accessible, but I haven't found a way to express it quickly and clearly enough to avoid uncomfortable misunderstandings. Since I really don't want to be “that guy,” can we come up with a nice shorthand for “Hey-I-think-you're-doing-a-great-job-making-cycling-look-good-and-no-I'm-not-being-sarcastic-or-hitting-on-you”? Or maybe a hand signal?  A little help here would be greatly appreciated.

While we've lost count of the classic bikes we've repaired and restored here at the shop, our sense of wonder at the unusual and beautiful products of the last century is far from dead. When this 1959 Apollo rolled through the door, we realized early on that under all the surface corrosion and cracking rubber we'd find a gem. Some might call it an antique, but this classy old roadster has a new lease on life and a new chance to get out there onto the pavement. We had a great time working on it, and thought we'd share a little!

A shot of the bike before any work was done.

Steel wool, if you didn't know, is excellent at removing corrosion from chrome.

Left = pre-polishing, right = post-polishing.  So shiny!

The finished product.

Check out those sweet rod-actuated stirrup brakes.

They really don't make them like they used to.

Time and leather treatment and more time.

Shiny means smooth braking.

So clean you can see me in it!

I’ll admit it.  I’m a little jealous that Seattle gets a Snowpocalypse before Chicago does.  I take pride in my city’s brutal winters.  So now that Seattle has had its fun it’s finally Chicago’s turn to play in the snow.  And while Fritz may happily snip zip ties off his bike now that things are back to normal over there I’ve got three inches of snow on the ground and more on the way.  In a matter of days the plows will shove all the snow in the valuable lanes of pavement I like to ride in, and soon after that all that snow will be compacted into something far more slippery than snow.  So, sure, Seattle gets “battered” once or twice every year, but what about real winter? 

What about many sub zero days, lots of scorching cold winds, the possibility of frost bite, snow, ice, more snow, more ice, and the inevitable lake effect misery that is the reality for all us crazy Midwestern winter riders?  What good is a bike commute if every time I swerve to avoid a collapsed catch basin or perilous pot hole, I lose traction and end up a pile of painful person underneath my bike?   Anyone who has attempted to ride down the lakeshore path will know what it’s like to see the sheen of a vast expanse of ice ahead.  When I was younger and I rode my 1977 Trek TX550 through such conditions, I just barreled through and braced for what I knew was going to be a couple of very uncomfortable moments.  But that was back when I trusted my patellae wouldn’t shatter upon impact, before I had any sort of thoughts that some injuries are more than just annoying to walk away from and some pain is too great to ignore. 

Anyway, what do we do about the dangers of an entire winter of ice and snow?

The Answer is studded tires.

These are the Schwalbe Marathon Winters I like to use.  (and that’s Chris in the background)

These things are great.  Greater, I might argue, than the zip tie snow chains.  And I might argue this because, well, I’m a bit too classy to be uglifying my stately Dutch bike with silly little zip ties.  (Kudos to you, Fritz, for choosing such a bright and safe color for your snow chains.  Safety first!) Seriously though, if you plan on riding through an entire winter, the studs will save you just when you need saving.

Remember when Fritz boasted of his uncanny placement of the zip ties so that they bit into the ice while cornering?  That’s the whole idea behind the placement of the carbide studs in the Schwalbe Marathon Winters.  The studs are arranged so that when running at full pressure your tires will primarily be making contact with the road right in the middle, on the rubber.  When you start cornering, the studs will do their job.  Of course, when the roads do get totally nasty, and the ice and hard pack snow is everywhere, you might just want to lower the pressure and let the carbide studs do their thing all the time.  With the increases contact area of a soft tire, the studs give you way more traction. 

With 240 metal studs on 700cc tire I feel secure on my ride no matter what I roll over, I’ll keep my wheels underneath me.   They also have the Schwalbe standard reflective strip on the side wall which makes me feel not only bijster (very) European but also bijster visible. 

It’s true. You will sound like a swarm of bees when pedaling along dry clean pavement.  But the advantage when you need it is well worth the noise.  And when you arrive to work, or the bar, or back home again all in one piece, everyone will be very happy to see you.  

We’ve got the tires in stock now, and we’ll get just about any size you need.  Heck, I’ll even put them on free of charge.  That’s how much I care about your safety.

SNOWPOCALYPSE!

No matter how much we swear we've learned our lessons, Seattle always seems to get caught by surprise by the snow. There we were, minding our own business with our feet all toasty in our sandals and socks, when the temperature plummeted and it turned into Juneau in January. While this year the City did a much better job than last year at preventing widespread carnage and destruction, we at Dutch Bike Seattle still didn't bring in studded tires because it never snows in Seattle. Even if we had stocked them, I'm not sure they'd sell because it never snows in Seattle, right?

We found something else, though. Something else entirely.

You're not going to believe it at first.

It's quick, it's cheap, and yes, it looks completely ludicrous.

BUT. It works. It works beautifully.

I can accelerate, brake, and corner with aplomb, even on the vile snowpack/sheet ice mix the plows leave in the bike lanes. The zip ties dig nicely into the hardest packed surfaces, but they're thin enough not to bounce the bike around at low speed or on short pavement sections.

I've cunningly positioned the tie heads to dig in as soon as the bike goes into a corner while staying up and off the ground in a straight line. This is the place that the ties are most likely to interfere with the fenders, so if you're installing these yourself be careful to make sure you have or can create the clearance.

It is at this point that I must admit that I didn't dream up this amazing technique. It pains me to admit this not because my ego suffers, but because the zip-tie-DIY-bicycle-snow-chains idea appears to have originated with my favorite bicycle industry whipping boy: fixed gear hipster culture. Several years ago, I'm sure, some bright child with extremely tight pants and an asymmetrical haircut had a genius-caliber idea, and I hate that it wasn't me. So here it is: Fixed gear street bike hipster guys, I'm sorry for the things I've said over the years. It's not true that the only drink you like is 4Loko. It's also not true that you're not allowed to wear shoes that don't match your bikes. You can wear whatever you want. And finally, you have come up with a good idea besides brightly colored deep-section rims.

Fall is here!  Which means, for those of us living here in Seattle, rain.  A lot of rain.  Driving rain.  Endless driving rain.  I’m pretty sure that last November it actually rained every day.  However, any experienced Northwestern cyclist can tell you that the best way to combat the crushing depression of the winter months (other than maybe buying a SAD lamp) is to keep riding your bike!  And what this means, is fenders. 

There are many different types of fenders.  Because I insist on riding completely impractical bikes, my only option are the clip on, or “fairly ineffective,” type of fenders.

These fenders are convenient because they simply clip on to the seat stays and fork blades of the bike, and don't need any eyelets or mounting hardware.  They’re inconvenient because they don’t really work very well, and as a result my bike is always dirty

and my feet are always wet and sad.

So, despite the more involved mounting process, full fenders are a better option.  They provide much greater coverage, which is great for your bike because it keeps it clean, prolonging the life of your components, and great for you because it keeps you more dry, prolonging the life of your ride.  A great example of full fenders are the ones that Fritz has on his bike.  Look at that clean bike!

And look at those happy feet!

“But wait!” you might say.  “I ride a racy road bike! I don’t have room for fenders! Or eyelets!”  Not to worry!  Both Fritz and myself have extensive experience putting together custom fenders to fit on even the most race-oriented carbon fiber speed machine.  There are several ways we can do this, but our most common method is to actually fabricate some mounts out of rack struts (thin, rectangular pieces of steel) and use these to clear the tight spaces in between the tires and brake calipers.  In the case of bikes without eyelets, we can use different types of clamps to keep the fender stays attached to the frame.

So why wait! Get some fenders! Keep your feet dry!

We've carried bikes from Linus for more than six months now, and in that time we've sent a surprising number of the little guys and gals out into the world in both Chicago and Seattle. It's been a pleasure to see them locked to bike racks downtown in the Loop , rolling down the Burke Gilman, and hanging from the chain link outside bars on Capitol Hill in Seattle. I've seen them used for commuters, bar bikes, kid haulers, and “couples' cycling incentives.” Just as Linus riders seem to have discovered the versatility of the design, we've had a great time expanding the capabilities of the bikes themselves. Here are a pair of the projects Alex and I have set up with some of the bikes. We've had a huge amount of fun thinking up ways to keep the Linus style undiluted while adding function and some new ways to ride!  If you cold winter riders are  looking to set up your Linus, Chicago Schwinn or  Raleigh with a similar light set-up ask us about the Schwalbe studded tires for winter riding.  

Classic headlight, classic tire generator, classic Roadster 3, and a nice warm yellow halogen beam.

Live on the top of a monster hill? The SRAM i-Motion 9 hub nearly triples the gear range of this Dutchi.

Dream it up and your Linus can probably do it.