Call Me

In Amsterdam Schiphol Airport while waiting for our flight to London, my companion (my work colleague) got hungry so we searched for a place to eat and we found this bar restaurant that has the coolest gadget.





Hmmm.... I bet... if only the Netherlands HORECA (Hotel, Restaurants & Cafes) alliance would unite and invest on these “Call” buttons to be present on every table, the elusive “Customer Service” perhaps might improve in this little country?

Mackinac Bridge

The Mackinac Bridge is a suspension bridge spanning the Straits of Mackinac to connect the non-contiguous Upper and Lower peninsulas of the U.S. state of Michigan. Envisioned since the 1880s, the bridge was completed in 1957 only after many decades of struggles to begin construction. Designed by engineer David B. Steinman, the bridge (familiarly known as "Big Mac" and "Mighty Mac") connects the city of St. Ignace on the north end with the village of Mackinaw City on the south. It is the third longest in total suspension in the world and the longest suspension bridge between anchorages in the Western hemisphere. The Mackinac Bridge carries Interstate 75 across the straits.

Perfect Just the Way You Are

In describing my experience in a paceline training ride earlier, I had written that my Rivendellwas not the right bike for that ride. Subsequently, I've received some suggestions for how to make it faster - including getting narrower tires, installing "brifters," removing the saddlebag, rack and fenders, and stripping off the dynamo lighting. While I appreciate the advice and agree that all of that may indeed improve my paceline performance, I do not plan to make any changes to this bicycle. Right now, I have a bicycle that is perfectfor me as a touring bike. Why turn something that's perfect for one activity into something that's okay but not ideal for another?



In stating that my Rivendell was not the right bike for a racing team-sponsored paceline ride, I was by no means criticising it or expressing unhappiness with it. I was merely reiterating a simple fact: Touring bikes are not racing bikes.



A touring bicycle is about exploration and about experiencing one's surroundings. You cannot do that when cycling 6" behind someone's rear wheel at 20mph.



A touring bike is about the long haul and about going at one's own pace.I use the computer as a handlebar-mounted clock and odometer more than I use it as a speedometer - because "how far" is a more interesting question for this bike than "how fast."



A touring bike is about the freedom of going anywhere, without having to cultivate the handling skills of a pro racer. Comfortable geometry and stable handling enable novice and experienced cyclists alike to ride. My bicycle is easy, and its wide, cushy tires make me immune to most of the fears that plague cyclists on modern roadbikes: potholes, rain, sand, uneven terrain - bring them on. I can even wear nice clothing while I'm at it, because the fenders will protect me from road grime. And with my bright, dynamo-generated lights I can cycle through the night and not worry about batteries.



A touring bike is a home away from home. In my saddlebag, on the day this picture was taken I carried: a large DSLR camera, a sweater, a hat, an apple, a notebook, a fountain pen, a bar of chocolate, a saddle cover, gloves, sunscreen, a lock and a mini pump. And that's nothing compared to what I could have brought had I also attached my handlebar bag. Setting off on a racing bike limits you to a training ride and nothing more. On a touring bikea ride can start out as one thing and morph into another. Groceries can be involved, or a spontaneous visit to a friend's house. Who knows!



Riding a touring bike is an organic experience. My Rivendell'ssteel, brass, canvas, leather, twine, shellac and rubber fit harmoniously with its riding style and with my enjoyment of exploring nature. It is not about competing with nature with ever-more-efficient materials and aerodynamic postures, but about simply existing.



In turning this bicycleinto a performance-oriented bike, I would essentially be giving up the very things that make it special. And that would be a shame.



Sure, we may be curious about pacelines and racing.



But not at the expense of smelling the flowers. Some bicycles are perfect just the way they are.

Solar Eclipse

We had a perfect view of the solar eclipse that was on last Sunday evening. We took some photos even though we didn't have good equipment for it. We used my small digital camera with a welding helmet held in front of the camera. The first photo is of the sun before the eclipse started and we got some solar flares in it, too. Second photo taken with a welding helmet with a yellow lens in it. The others were taken with a helmet that had a green lens. We got some not so good shots and some that weren't that bad considering our makeshift equipment. Hubby was upset they didn't look better but I though getting anything was good.

Manufacturers with 'History': Does Continuity Matter?

What does it mean, when we say that a bicycle manufacturer has a long history? There are manufacturers out there, whose names are legendary and whose origins date back more than a century. Bianchi was founded in 1885, Raleigh in 1887 and Gazelle in 1892. All three brands still exist today, and the company literature stresses their historical roots. After all, history means legacy, tradition, substance and trust - setting these brands apart from newcomers. But is it really accurate to connect the bikes currently produced under these brand names to their vintage predecessors? After all, Bianchi is now owned by Cycleurope, Gazelle by the Glide Buy Out Fund, and Raleigh by Derby International - venture capital conglomerates that own or manage a variety of brands. Not only has the ownership changed dramatically, but so have the basic designs, the methods production, the facilities, the country of production, and oftentimes the quality of the product. What is it then, that gives the manufacturer continuity?



When a small manufacturer with a history is acquired by a conglomerate, there are usually designers and marketing people assigned to manage the brand's "image." They research what it was that made the brand iconic, what associations the customer base has come to have with the brand name, and they incorporate these elements into the company's literature, advertising campaigns and mission statements. But is this sufficient?



[image via J. Ferguson]

On the other hand, there are brand names that, years after having ceased production, have been resurrected by a new owner who ardently tries to continue making the bicycles in the original tradition.René Herse was a Frenchconstructeur - alegendary framebuilderwho created exquisite randonneuring bicycles in the 1930s-1970s. More than 30 years after Herse's death, theRené Herse name was purchased by a man in Colorado, USA, and Herse bicycles are now once again being built - this time by an American framebuilder. Though I have seen only pictures, it is said that the new bicycles look and handle similarly to the originals. Nevertheless, is it the same manufacturer?



When thoroughly examined, there are in fact very few, if any, bicycle manufacturers that have maintained continuity throughout the years. There are brands, once synonymous with quality, that have been sold to lower-tier mail order companies. There are brands that have been acquired by international venture capital firms. There are brands that have been resurrected under new ownership. And there are brands that have switched owners a number of times since they first started out.What must a bicycle brand retain of itself in order for you to recognise it as a manufacturer with a long history, rather than think of it as a different company under the same name?

Pink Poppy

Here we are, almost halfway through September already, but our flower gardens around the house still have a beautiful variety of blooms! Here is a recent shot of one of our pink poppies in the front yard. I used the macro mode on my Canon G11 camera to make this close-up, abstract image of the flower.

Hey. You Look Good.

Looking straight at her, he said it with nonchalant sincerity, nodding in approval for emphasis.



"Hey. You look good."



In response she gave him a startled, almost bewildered look. As if caught off guard by his directness. As if to say "Hey buddy, this is a cycling club, not a night club. And don't you know any subtler flirting tactics besides?"



Witnessing the exchange I had to suppress a laugh. When this phrase was first said to me on a ride, I did not know what to make of it either.



Of course the guy was telling her she looked good on the bike. That her position was good, that the bike fit her well, that she had good form. It's all in the tone and in the look. Once you get used to this pronouncement in a cycling context, it's hard to mistake for flirtation. But the first time it does catch you off guard. "You look good." Just like that, huh?



I don't tell other cyclists they look good on the bike when we ride together. I don't feel ready. What do I know good form from bad? Yes I see things, and I think it to myself. But it wouldn't be right to say it. The compliment must have significance.



But when I have my camera the dynamic changes. I tell riders they look good then, and it takes on a different meaning: happy, radiant, picturesque. Maybe they have a contagious smile. Or an intriguing frown. Or the light through the trees is falling on their face just so. Or the colour of their bike interacts perfectly with the colours of the bench they are standing beside. It feels natural to say it then, looking through the lens of my camera. "You look wonderful." Or "That's beautiful - thank you."



And there are times when I know not to say it. Just like sometimes I know not to point my camera. Even though the scene looks perfect, I just don't.



The human gaze is such a complicated thing. It communicates interest, care, the acknowledgement of the other, but also scrutiny. We want to be gazed upon to some extent, but there is always a line beyond which we don't. In cycling, the gaze is ever present - focused on each other's bodies, movements. Sometimes it is silent judgment. And sometimes it culminates in "Hey. You look good." In response to which I simply say "Thanks" and continue to pedal.

Symbolic Cycling in Films

I watched two films over the past week, and it so happens that both not only featured scenes with bicycles, but used these scenes in a similar manner.

Therese and Isabelle is a black and white film c. 1968 based on the novel by Violet Leduc. It is a coming-of-age story about a doomed love affair between two girls at a French boarding school. In the first half of the film, there is a scene where the girls are cycling along an endless tree-lined alley and laughing. (Not that it matters in the context of the film, but they are riding beautiful mixtes with hammered fenders and dynamo lighting.) This is probably the happiest and most idyllic point of the film - where joy, freedom, and limitless possibilities are the dominant themes. Later it all ends badly, but the cycling scene is the antithesis of the tragic ending.

The Sheltering Sky is a 1990 Bertolucci film starring John Malkovich, based on the novel by Paul Bowles. It is about an aristocratic composer and his beautiful wife, who aimlessly travel around North Africa while trying to overcome complex marital difficulties. This film too ends badly. But before things go downhill, there is a bicycle scene - where the husband and wife are traveling through a stretch of the Sahara on his and hers Roadsters, with cream tires and rod brakes. Unlike any of the other trips they take together, this one is infused with positive emotion and hope for a future.

Though the two films could not be more different from one another, the bicycle plays the same symbolic role in both: representing hope, joy, freedom, and simplicity. At the same time, in both films the bicycle is also used as a symbol of the unsustainable. "It is not possible for things to stay this good," the cycling scenes suggest, thereby foreshadowing an eventual tragic ending. In order for these associations to work as cinematic tools - which in both films they do - there has to be a deeply ingrained cultural perception of the bicycle as a symbol of escapism and wishful thinking; the bicycle is something that is incompatible with "real life". And this to me was very interesting to notice. Something to think about, at least.

2 Raincoats: Nau Succinct Trench and Lululemon Ride On Rain Jacket

It's been raining here all week, so the timing seems right to review some raincoats. For three years now I've been looking for a lightweight, waterproof, breathable raincoat that works well on a city bike, but found nothing. Now I've suddenly come across two. On the left is the Succinct Trench by Nau, purchased by me a few months ago via a discount website. On the right is the Ride On Rain Jacket by Lululemon, sent to me for review by the manufacturer. Both raincoats fit my requirements well.






The Lululemon "Ride On" Rain Jacket is a rather avant-garde looking raincoat that hits a few inches above the knees in the front and an inch or so below the back of the knees in the rear. It has the same Edwardian theme as the blazer reviewed earlier, but here it is consistent and harmonious throughout the garment. The jacket is very thin and feels suitable for temperatures in the mid 40°s - mid 70°s Fahrenheit.





The jacket is waterproof and breathable,lined with a soft, thin fabricthroughout. Lululemon uses cryptic proprietary names to describe their fabrics, and the stuff this jacket is made of is called "atmosphere." It is crinkly and easy to scrunch up and stuff into a pannier when not in use. It weighs very little. An inner drawcord at the waist makes the fit of this jacket adjustable. Overall the fit is pretty loose, but tightening the drawcord gives it a tailored, flattering look. Another drawcord controls the hem.





When the hem is let out, it is pretty flowy. Tightening the drawcord offers better protection from the rain.






The sleeves are extra long, featuring cuffs with reflective detailing.






There is an inner and an outer zipper, the purpose of which I do not entirely understand. Lululemon calls this a "double zipper." However, neither of them are two-way, and the jacket cannot be unzipped from the bottom.






The front pockets have smallish zippered openings outlined with reflective ribbon They are very roomy inside and are lined with a soft, pleasant fabric. There is also an inner pocket.





The collar zips up high and can be used in leu of a scarf. The hood is large enough to fit over a bicycle helmet, of so desired. It is is adjustable via a drawstring, but is not detachable.







TheLululemon "Ride On" Rain Jacket works well for cycling because it is lightweight, waterproof, breathable, stretchy, makes minimal rustling noise, has longer than standard sleeves, and provides good rain coverage via a combination of its length and drawcord hem. At the same time it is sufficiently elegant to wear as part of an everyday, non-technical wardrobe. As far as criticisms: I found the fit of the hood to be less than optimal, with a slight tendency to obscure my peripheral vision unless I move it out of the way or push it back a bit. Hi-viz lovers might be disappointed by the subtlety of the reflective details, but this jacket is also available in orange (and black). The $298 price tag may or may not be a deal breaker, depending on what you are used to. And of course the flowing, Edwardian style is not everyone's cup of tea. Would I have bought this jacket for myself? Not at full retail price, but yes if it went on sale and if I did not already own the Nau trench (see below). After this review I will be giving it away locally. You can read another review of this jacket by Dottie on Let's Go Ride a Bike.




The Nau Succinct Trenchresembles a classic Barbour-style English field coat. It hits mid-thigh and is gently tailored at the waist. Made of an ultra-thin shell material, it is waterproof, breathable and lightweight,suitable for temperatures in the mid40°s - mid 70°s Fahrenheit. The fabric is described as "recycled polyester."






The jacket shown here is the model and the colour of the current model is a little different: The latter has black buttons instead of silver and a very subtle black-on-black plaid pattern. In all other ways they are the same (I asked the manufacturer).







The Nau trench is simple, compact and decidedly utilitarian in design. Those who do not like to fuss with drawcords and adjust things back and forth, will enjoy its intuitive versatility.






The two-way zipper and rear vent make it easy to adjust the width of the hem for pedaling, walking, and other activities .





The roomy, covered pockets feature both zip and snap closure, allowing both easy access of weather-proofing.





The stand-up collar can be buttoned up to protect the neck from rain and wind, or let out.






The waist is adjustable.




Only the upper 3rd of the trench is lined, reducing weight and bulk.






The detachable, visored hood features both a zipper,snap closure and a hidden draw-cord, allowing for a number of micro-adjustments for optimal fit.





The NauSuccinct Trench works well for cycling because it is lightweight, waterproof, breathable, easy to move in, makes minimal rustling noise, has longer than standard sleeves, and provides coverage of the derriere and upper thighs. A classic design, it is sufficiently elegant to wear as part of an everyday, non-technical wardrobe and is unlikely to go out of style over the next few years. The detachable hood offers extra versatility, and does not obscure peripheral vision. As far as criticisms: Making the trench slightly longer would provide better rain coverage for cyclists. Adding a few reflective elements will be attractive to those who require that their rain jacket be hi-viz. Personally I would love to see this jacket in a classic colour other than black - for instance olive green. The $275 price tag may or may not be a deal breaker, depending on what you are used to. I bought mine for 40% off via a discount retailer at the end of last season, and those who find the retail price too high can always wait, stalk, and do the same.



I find both the Nau Succinct Trench and the Lululemon Ride on Rain Jacket to be flattering, practical, and cycling-appropariate, assuming that you ride an upright bike and are looking for a raincoat that is suitable as everyday clothing. The Lululemon jacket is probably the more stylish of the two considering current trends, but it is also the more likely to look dated a couple of years down the road. For me, that skews things in favour of the Nau trench, but others' preferences may differ. Both raincoats are good examples of cycling-appropriate apparel. By comparison, my older raincoat is considerably bulkier and more constricting on the bike. I am glad to have finally found a replacement.

A Little Give-Away for the Long Weekend

[image via Po Campo & Planet Gear]

Longing for something lovely, US-made and free to go with your celebration of freedom from monarchy this week-end? How about aPo Campo Spare Pocket fromPlanetGear?This curious item is a water-resistant mini-purse that attaches to your wrist, ankle, or bicycle handlebars. The fabric is a beautiful "contrast damask" with reflective bird detail. I am not one to carry a purse, let alone a tiny purse, so that whole genre of accessories rather mystifies me! I can see attaching this to the handlebars though.



PlanetGear is a women owned retail club offering discounts on gear, clothing and travel destinations, as well as referral programs and monthly specials. I am not a member and am not affiliated with the company, but it looks interesting and hey - if they want to give you free stuff, how can I stand in the way?



If you would like the Spare Pocket, simply post a comment describing your week-end cycling plans (if you don't have any, make some up!) and I will then pick a random entry. US entries only for this one, and please include your contact information in the comment. Recipient will be chosen on Friday July 8th, and you may enter any time up till then. Thank you to PlanetGear for the give-away, thank you everyone for reading, and enjoy the holiday!

Putting it all together.

I love a good collage, who doesn't? All those pieces somehow related but somehow not complete.

That's S'matt up theremaking sense of a wild collection of very cool moves.

(click to enlarge)

Dill Pickle Bags: a Local Delicacy

There once was a girl from West Medford







whocould trackstand for hours without effort.







And then in one go,







some bags she would sew,



eating pickles whilst cycling backward...



Dill Pickle bags have a cult status around these parts. "Brevet tested, randonneur approved," the bags are made by fabled long distance cyclistEmily O'Brien. Over the years I'd hear snippets of stories about her, told in hushed tones ("Don't you know she did Paris-Brest-Paris on an old fixed gear bike, subsisting on nothing but pickles and chocolate milk?").











Then I met and befriended Emily: the approachable, mischievous creature who I now have the fortune to ride with when she is not off doing things like this. And while everything they say about her is true (well, mostly - her fixed gear bike Archie weighs a mere 30lb, not 60lb as some would tell it!), the popular portrait leaves many things out. For instance, her music career. Her ties to Europe. Her tomato garden, yarn spinning and knitting. Her gloriously warped sense of humor. And, of course, her talent for bicycle-themed limericks. I hope she enjoys the one I composed in her honour (it was tough to find words that rhymed with Medford, but lines ending with Emily or O'Brien proved tougher still, so Medford it was!).





I remember fondly my first visit to Maison du Dill Pickle. The foyer is filled floor to ceiling with all kinds of bikes. New bikes, old bikes, frankenbikes, parts of bikes. There are also many wonderous doohickies, and, of course Dill Pickle bags of various vintages, colour schemes, and states of use.






The workshop is in the attic. Two work stations with sewing machines. A table for measuring and cutting. Boxes with cloth and supplies. Rolls of fabric and ribbon everywhere. Patterns and mysterious notes taped to the walls. Iced coffee and popsicles on a hot summer day.





Pickle jars are everywhere. It appears they function as paper weights.






As I photograph, Emilystarts to make a bag from scratch to show me her process, chatting easily all the while. She draws then cuts out a pattern.Soon she is at the sewing machine.






As I watch her fingers dance just millimeters from the needle, I remember the first - or maybe second - time we met up for a ride. Emily was drinking a smoothie as she serenely navigated her way through a busy intersection. I watched this with horror/awe from a bench across the road. I'd arrived early and was sitting there, eating, with all my things strewn across the bench. Upon reaching me Emily hopped onto the sidewalk and remained on her bike - trackstanding, while chatting, drinking her smoothie and gesticulating, both hands off the handlebars - for what must have been at least 5 minutes while I finished eating, refilled my waterbottle, put my gloves and glasses back on and got ready to go. The way she works reminds me of this: the easy multitasking; the amazing coordination. She works quickly and calmly, and she makes it look easy and natural.






For hours, we talk about design. Function vs form. Desire vs experience. Classic vs modern. We discover there are projects we would like to collaborate on. Camera bags! Handlebar bags! Quick-release briefcases! So many ideas.





To start with, I take home a standardsmall saddlebag to demo and provide feedback. Rummaging through a box of ready-made bags, we find a black and tan one that seems to suit my bike, and I ride away with it - a list already forming in my head of all the changes I'd like to make if I were to get a custom one for myself. Nix the mesh pockets, I'm thinking. Fewer drawcords and loops.








But after riding with the bag for a few weeks, I no longer want to change anything except the colour. The beauty of the small saddlebag, I realise, is that it maximises carrying capacity while minimising the profile and weight of the bag itself. In that sense, it is such a successful design, such a perfect balance of features (and lack thereof) that I cannot think of a single improvement without making the bag worse in some other sense.








Made of lightweight, durable cordura, the bag cinches and expands while retaining a narrow, under-the-saddle profile. In its most compact form, it the size of a large saddle wedge. In its expanded form, it offers as much storage capacity as many full-sized saddlebags - without the bulk or the width.






The main compartment is lined with a waterproof fabric. As someone who has ridden hundreds of miles in the rain(at a time!), Emily considers this feature important. Inside is an optional zippered pocket, with another one on the inside of the top flap.






The drawcord allows the bag to expand or cinch as necessary.





Optional reflective loops are designed to carry a mini-pump across the top of the bag. The mesh pockets on the sides and top are optional as well, but the more I used the bag, the more I discovered just how much I liked using them; it was like having extra jersey pockets. Everything that is not water-sensitive can be stored in them, and they are easy to reach into while cycling. On long rides, I found it extremely convenient to stuff the mesh pockets with food: Not only was it easy to access, but the size of my bag diminished over the course of the ride, since the mesh is collapsible and almost weightless.






The bag's closure system is simple, quick, light, and replaceable in case of eventual wear or breakage.






The strap is expandable, with the excess length folded over and held in place by a clip. It took me a bit to learn how to clip back the strap properly, and on my first ride it fell out and drove me nuts rubbing against the rear tire before I realised what it was (what is that sound?). But I did get it eventually.






The attachment system uses cam buckles, making attaching and removing the bag, as well as adjusting its position, very convenient. This is a useful feature for those who take their bag on and off, or switch it from one bike to another frequently, but don't want a permanently installed quick-release system. The bag can be attached either to saddle loops, or to saddle rails - making it compatible with a variety of saddles, including racing saddles.






At the end of my testing period, I had to admit that while the bag was somewhat more contemporary-looking than what I am normally partial to, its design and functionality suited my needs for a compact and easy to remove roadbike bag pretty much perfectly. As it happened, the bag was also just big enough to swallow my DSLR camera. I had been looking for a minimalist single camera carry system for a while, and this seemed like a good candidate. The only problem was padding. I have a 3-compartment camera insert from Zimbale that fits into wide saddlebags the size of the Carradice Barley and the Zimbale 7L bag. So I suggested Emily make a single-camera insert to fit the Dill Pickle Small Saddlebag. As Emily regularly makes padded inserts for musical instruments, this proved to be an easy task.






So now I have my own Dill Pickle bag, which is also the Small Camera Bag prototype. In construction it is more or less identical to the standard Small Saddlebag. For the exterior fabric, I chose olive-green cordura with reflective trim.







Some have pointed out to me that the bag would look more "classic" without the mesh pockets. That may be so, but the mesh pockets are fabulously useful and I couldn't live without them.







Besides, since my bike itself is pretty modern I think the aesthetic is appropriate.The proportions work pretty well, too.






For the waterproof interior fabric and the insert I chose gray, which looks almost sky blue next to the olive cordura.






The removable padded camera insert is made out of 3/8" closed cell foam. The flap tucks in for extra security. The zippered compartments inside the lid and bottom of the bag remain free for basic tools. Alternatively, tools can be kept in the mesh pockets if they do not require waterproofing (or wrapped in a plastic bag if they do).






The insert is shaped to the inside of the bag and will accommodate a range of "prosumer" grade DSLR cameras with small prime lenses. For example, my Nikon D90 with a 35 or 50mm lens fits with room to spare. Basically, this bag accommodates a scenario that I find myself in frequently: I am going on a fast ride and I want my bike to be unencumbered. But I also want to bring a "real" camera and get some nice shots. This setup will allow me to do just that, with minimal hassle. It won't fit an entire photographer's kit with multiple lenses, and it won't fit a huge zoom lens. But I can choose a small prime lens and I'll be able to get some quality shots without attaching more bag than I need to the bike.






One idea we toyed with when discussing the insert prototype was making an extra compartment for batteries, memory cards and the like. In theory the empty space around the lens leaves room for this. But ultimately we decided against it, because we wanted the standard insert to fit as many differently shaped cameras as possible. That said, custom inserts tailored to specific camera and lens combinations can be made as well - as can slightly larger, or differently shaped camera bags. But the beauty of this particular bag, is that it's the standard, compact small Dill Pickle bag made more versatile still with the addition of a removable insert. As I see it, the prototype insert is ready to go as a standard-production accessory.






Dill Pickle bags can come in many shapes, sizes and colours, and Emily is always game for custom orders.Of course as with everything, these bags are not for everyone. If you prefer leather, tweed and brass, there are other manufacturers who are more appropriate. What Dill Pickle bagsare known for are their lightweight materials, function-first designs, and aesthetics that are highly customisable within those parameters. There are lots of cordura colours to choose from, as well as trim, ribbon, lining, and closure mechanisms.






The retail prices - starting at $170 for a small saddlebag - are what they have to be, considering the bags are handmade locally. The more affordable mud flaps are a mere $22 a pair. I would try some, but I almost never have fenders on my roadbikes (I know, I know).






What I will be trying soon is a new handlebar bag prototype and a couple of other interesting products. Emily lives in the next town over and our similar work schedules allow us to ride, talk and brainstorm together, which can yield interesting results when both parties are bike-obsessed. Who knows what contraptions lie ahead. For those interested, here are some shots of the Dill Pickle workshop, and more shots of the small saddlebags here.