another "Bike as Multipurpose Cargo Vehicle" from the archives

This actually inspired me to go back through the archives and add a new label of "cargo bikes".

If it's insufficiently impressive that this photo was taken on November 29, 2015 (the internetz tells me it was a high of 44 that day); I was just starting to ride about 3.5 miles through Boston city streets. (Watertown, Brighton, and Allston for those who know the city.)

This is how we roll

Another in a series of bike as multipurpose cargo vehicle.

More on cargo bikes. And mean, nasty, aggressive people.

So, this started out as a pretty vanilla taking cans to the recycling center trip. I was amused that the photo showed the end of a (long disused) stretch of railroad track just down the street from my elementary school.

Then, less than a block after I took this photo, on a slow residential street, a very angry woman who was having a hard time keeping her mail on top of her car screamed at me (yes: screamed) "IF I WAS A COP, I'D BE HAPPY TO GIVE YOU A TICKET!!!"

I briefly considered my options, mostly stopping to ask "Um... what would you give me a ticket for?" since I genuinely wasn't doing anything wrong, much less anything worthy of a ticket. (Side note: the only thing I could even remotely think of is that she doesn't actually know what California Vehicle Code 23115 says about "rubbish vehicles", since it was absolutely covered and secured in such a way as to prevent anything from falling. I am guessing that she thinks anyone transporting aluminum cans by bicycle is a criminal.)

But I made an almost instantaneous decision to not interact: she struck me as the type of angry nasty aggressive person who might very well pack a personal sized pepper spray.

So I rode on. And went through various possible responses in my head. And tried hard to decide if this was a #driverwhohatescyclists or #driverwhohatespeoplewhomightbehomelesswhorecyclecans sort of thing. In the end, it probably was best to ignore her.

Made me sad for Sacramento, though. Especially since, if we could have had a reasoned conversation, I'm pretty sure I could have explained what I was doing, and why, and that I've lived here at least as long as her, likely longer (p.s. I went to elementary school less than a quarter mile away.)

Just how I roll

That's a four foot long raised bed garden. The bike cargo trailer rocked.

Another singlespeed as cargo vehicle!

I love loading up bikes with random shit and riding it around.

Singlespeed as cargo vehicle!

Res ipsa loquitor, no? (Well, res ipsa loquitor if you click on the picture to see the whole image.)

More bike as cargo vehicle

This time the mountain bike. Just 'cause.

Sitba

Sitba as multi purpose cargo vehicle!

 

Yes, that's a lawnmower. 

Family Joad Style

Bet you can't guess where I am :
J and I did a bunch of cleaning before a recent (lovely!) visit from A2. As part of this, we revisited our need to get rid of the crappy green thrift store suitcase that I bought (on a trip with A2!) at a thrift store in Denver for $7. It served its purpose then, which was getting a bunch of bike stuff back to Atlanta, but, well, it kinda didn't roll.

So we filled it up with a bunch of other stuff we needed to donate, and did the logical thing: strapped it to the back of my bike. J and I then rode to the always miserable Lenox Square Mall, only to find that the Goodwill collection trailer that used to live in a parking lot behind the mall is gone. No indication on the website, no signage in the lot.

We call to confirm the other collection center still exists. J goes into the mall to scout out replacement suitcases (we're really picky: we want a hardside 19" or 20" spinner that will absolutely fit in overhead bins. When you fly as much as we do, it's nice to be able to predict your suitcase will absolutely fit.)

I ride three miles up Peachtree Road to the new Costco location which is, inexplicably, located within a couple miles of the other two Costcos in Atlanta, all three of the min the northern suburbs.

The only notable thing on the ride was some pedestrian who, as I rode by, offered the unsolicited advice "get your ass out of the road." Thanks, asshole. Maybe next time. Or not.

I then get to the brand new, just constructed, built to suit Costco, to find that it has NO BICYCLE RACKS. Fail. Serious, serious fail. So I lock my bike to a pole. Inside, I find a suitcase that is basically perfect, for $50. I buy it, and to the significant amusement of the woman marking receipts at the door who sees my bike helmet, proceed to strap it to the top of my bike.

Here's the story (were you getting bored yet?) So I get back to Lenox Square, and we still have to ride about seven miles back down Peachtree Road, then a couple miles up Collier Road, to get to the Goodwill donation center that is actually open. How are we going to manage this, you wonder? Here's how:


Ohhhhh, yeah. Sitba kicks ass. Even the three cars engaging in a loud and reckless illegal street race on Peachtree Road near Piedmont Hospital gave me wide berth with this.

Bicycle, two ways

Day four of bicycle withdrawal. The shakes have mostly gone away, but I still have transient feverish chills. I'm getting by, though. Here's the bike mere minutes before I sold it, after stripping all the crap off of it.


As you can see, it's a pale shadow of its former cargo-hauling glory: