On a recent Saturday night, our friend Rick was pedaling home from a night out in Ballard back to his fishing boat at Seattle's Fisherman Terminal when he found himself off the docks and plunged into the dark waters. Not a great way to end a night.

Luckily he was packing Schwalbe Fat Frank tires on his Rivendell and was able to swim out and locate his bike floating upside down by her cream tires. A few months ago Rick equipped his Rivendell with Schwalbe Fat Franks tires, the cream balloon racers. If you've never had the pleasure of cruising on these marshmallows over brutal winter streets you may want to consider it. Cheers to Schwalbe for making tires that save our bikes from swimming with the fishes.

I visited the North American Handmade Bicycle Show (NAHBS 2009) in Indianapolis this past weekend. This was a welcome respite and my first trip outside of Chicago since my arrival in October.

Thanks to my friends Tom and DeAnne for hosting my Indianapolis stay and welcoming me with all manner of good company, conversation and food. As well, I'd like to thank the Fighting Cocks volleyball club for initiating me into their fold with a shot of their namesake whiskey and a hearty rendition of their fight song.  Mercifully, they only sang their limerick (to the tune of "Mickey Mouse") once and I was able to avoid the 103 proof rye for the rest of the evening.  These guys have been playing together through three generations.  Their jolly party banter, good humor and obvious joy in each other's company reflects a life well-lived and played amongst friends.

I was hoping for some efficient form of public transportation to whisk me down to Indy for the weekend. The Amtrak "Hoosier State" runs once per day leaving Chicago at 5:45 PM and arriving Indy over five hours later at 11:50 PM. Not attractive, seeing as a three hour drive down the freeway takes me right to the bar where I can drink a beer and eat pizza with Tom and DeAnne. In that way Hertz is a far more convenient (and not much more expensive, sparing carbon emissions-associated guilt) solution than Amtrak. Amtrak was not going to ferry me back & forth to my hosts who live in the suburbs of Carmel, IN. Once clear of Chicago's early Friday afternoon congestion I felt a proud freedom fueled by the open highway ahead, a full tank of gas, a company debit card, my folding bike in the trunk and cruise control locked on 72.

Indianapolis, beyond being home to the world's most famous speedway and the NFL's Colts, is the home to many war memorials. Driving into town I am greeted by a most impressive obelisk capped by a sword-bearing, torch-holding, tunic-clad, winged-cap-wearing sort of lady liberty. The Indiana Soldier's and Sailor's Monument and the round brick-paved plaza surrounding it mark the center of the city. For a moment I imagined I was in Italy or France, but once through the lovely plaza it was clear I was just on my way to a big parking lot in the neighborhood of an American football stadium. I popped the trunk, unfolded my bike, rode through crowds making their way to a monster truck jam and found my way to the convention center.

I saw no bike parking accommodations outside the convention hall. In the lobby, a local organization hosted a handy bike corral, likely to spare us the bike confiscation debacle of last year's show.

The convention hall itself was packed. I bumped into some of my new Chicago friends as well as Dutch Bike Co. Chicago customers. My impression from talking to some of the builders is that the quantity and caliber of prospective buyers increased over last year's show. I imagine that mid-west cycling enthusiasts confined by this unusually wicked-cold winter make it a point to stoke their passion at any opportunity. This festival of bespoke bike porn proved the perfect remedy for mid-winter blues.

The show seemed more homogeneous than last year's: missing were odd builders and specialty component manufacturers (Rohloff, Schlumpf... ) from the far reaches of Europe. More present were the bigger custom manufacturers like Independent Fab., Co-Motion and component manufacturers like Brooks, Cane Creek and SRAM. I liked that SRAM was promoting their Truvativ two-speed HammerSchmidt crank/bottom bracket. Though an innovation focused mainly at the mountain bike and 29'er market, I believe the HammerSchmidt would make an elegant and bullet-proof two-speed city bike solution.

As far as city and utility bikes, many builders displayed sporty solutions with derailleurs and forward-leaning positions for the riders. Really, because they're so precious, it's hard to call a $3-5000 hand-built bike a utility bike, unless its a cargo bike or a long-tail. I would have liked to have seen builders using full chain cases and more internally-geared hubs. These two components combined with a completely upright riding position are the trademarks of a true utility or city bike. The maintenance and longevity benefits of having your whole drive-train sealed are innumerable, way beyond the bonus of never needing to roll up your right pant leg. I saw not one bike with a full chain case, though some very beautiful stylized chain guards.

Someone leading the city and utility bike design movement is Mike Flanigan, known as ANT Bike Mike for his company Alternative Needs Transportation. Mike is building one of his popular designs in a more standardized manner. No longer a true custom, his low-volume production, front and rear-racked Boston Roadster is a paragon of fun, style, utility and affordability. One look a the steel one piece crank may drive many gear-headed dilettantes into a hypertensive pseudo-scientific rant, but to me it just says strong, durable, time-tested and gives me the warm fuzzy feeling I get when I think of my first Schwinn.

It's worth mentioning that Mike's roadsters have internally geared hubs, grip shifting, dynamo hub-powered headlamp and tail lamp, fenders, roller brake, a sprung saddle, as well a front and rear rack - all features that turn a bike into a practical and comfortable appliance - a true city bike and one that will serve its owner for years to come with little maintenance. The only thing missing is a full chain case, which remains in the domain of Dutch city bikes designed for those who wear their business clothes when they ride. It's also worth celebrating the sporty and cool Bilenky cargo bikes. Bilenky seemed to have the widest variety of bikes, from fat-tired monsters, to porteurs, to hybrid tandems and a triple with recumbent stokers on either side of the captain.

While in Mike's booth on Saturday I had the pleasure of meeting someone who is likely The Daddy of all Indianapolis bike riders. He asked me to guess the year of his birth. I suddenly knew I was getting sandbagged. I blurted 1920, figuring he was so old that everyone guessed short of his real age, so I thought I'd guess long. He answered 1915. Whoa, and still riding a bike. That's 93 or 94 years old, for those of you who don't have a calculator or like me, spare brain cells devoted to arithmetic. He owns 3 bikes and told me the story of recently re-discovering his first (1920) bicycle in a local antiques shop. He said that the bike was the only one to be found in a neighboring town's mercantile store, initially so big that at first he could only ride it standing up, because he could not reach the pedals from the saddle. Eventually the bike fit him and after some time he repainted it and it was this paint job which gave the bike away almost ninety years later when he spied it hanging in the antique shop. Missing was the perfect ending in which the antique shop owner sells the bike to the nostalgic 90-plus year-old man who was once the bicycle's original childhood owner.

Enjoy the slides below...

David is in Amsterdam this week meeting with suppliers. We have limited staffing until his return on the 23rd, so shop hours will be limited to weekends. Feel free to call Stephan at our Chicago shop 312-265-0175 if you have any questions. Thanks and cheers.

We want to thank everyone for continuing to believe in Dutch Bike Co. and our mission to bring the best of the what the bicycle is about to America.

Seems over the last few weeks here in Chicago we've had a snow storm every few days. Eddie, our property manager, begins his snow shoveling rounds many times before 4:00 AM. Shoveling sidewalks is The Law here in the windy city and property owners are fast (and smart) to mitigate their liabilities. Buried under the covers, as I drift in in and out of dreaming my next tropical vacation, I can hear the shovel scraping.

Now for many cities, this sort of weekly winter onslaught results in municipal paralysis (to the delight of all school-free children).  In Chicago, four or five inches of snow quickly succumbs to battalions of snow plows, running day and night on all the major boulevards, strewing salt behind them as if the roads are salmon fillet and we are curing  gravlax for the holiday.  Due to this saline seasoning, the roads remain wet to well below twenty degrees.  Cars shoosh by as if it just rained.  Truly icy main roads are a rarity, and on the occasion the roads do dry, they just imitate ice like the flats of Bonneville

I do not ever remember applying the adjective awesome to the cold, but today it applies.  On my morning Bakfiets ride to the gym,  ice formed on my nostril hairs.  My breath escaped into giant steam clouds only to freeze as layers of ice on my sunglasses.  I suppose there is a point where a gob of spit would freeze before it hits the ground, but it's not quite that cold yet, but seemingly close.  NOAA says it's -3 degrees Fahrenheit, that's -19 degrees C for you Swedish astronomy fans.  Did I mention it's sunny and the wind is blowing 30-40 mph?  That makes the wind chill -30 degrees F.  Santa says wear a hat, eye protection and some good gloves. The ride to the gym is less than two miles, so I savored less than ten minutes each way of the invigorating awesomeness that is today's blowing cold.

When it's this cold the accumulated snow, well, it does just that: accumulates.  It has no place to go other than under and around parked cars.  It doesn't melt, no matter how much salt the DOT Head Chef throws on the pig.  Even the randomly strewn blue salt crystals on my Bakfiets cargo cover were encased in ice.  I passed several motorists digging out their cars, one, stuck in a rocking back and forward, howling tire dance (with a tip of the cap to Sammy Hagar) called "I can't drive 55" (like it's 55 degrees, that is).  No problem for a post-apocalyptic, wool overcoat-clad, studded tire riding Bakfiets pilot.  I just plow my bike into the snow bank, hop off and push the guy out of his predicament.  Subsequently, we both drive off much happier about the state of motorist-cyclist relations.

Because Chicago is really, truly, unbelievably, billiard table flat, it is universally "Bakfiets-able".  The only hills are bridges and valleys, freeway underpasses.  This makes it easy to carry whatever I like, wherever I like.   About 40 lbs of "stuff" (anything will do, even snow) in the front of the Bakfiets will help the front wheel cut through even the most peanut-buttery snow.  Because Bakfiets and rider are together as aerodynamic as a cathederal, wind can just as easily be an enemy as a friend.  I ride the narrower tree-lined side streets, where the wind is less ferocious and pedal like a liquor store bandit whenever the wind is to my back, because it is just as likely to be blasting me in the face by the next intersection.

line ¹ |līn|

We are pleased to exhibit the artworks of Tully Satre ("say-ter") this month, through January 30th, 2009.  Mr. Satre is a student at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Are these post-modern tapestry designs, tartans, a painterly algebraic expression or obsession? You decide. The meticulous attention to line will surely tickle you. Show hours are TU - SA, 11 AM - 6 PM and SU, noon - 5 PM (closed Mondays)

Our friend, style & finance blogger and author of the snappy recession guide Don't Get Caught with Your Skirt Down, Jill Keto takes some time to have a glass of wine and take an Oma for a test ride.  Disclaimer: no animals or children were harmed in the making of this video.

Time is a luxury, so if your weary of wasting 7-10 seconds per day, 49 seconds a week and an average 3.2 minutes a month folding your bike, the Bike Friday is your time machine.  We're now pleased to have Bike Friday folding bikes in our shop.

These bikes have a very loyal customer base all over the U.S. and abroad, made in Eugene Oregon they're a great compliment to the species of imported city bikes in our stable. While our Dutch and German bikes are meant to be left (or piled) outside the train station, these babies come along for the ride, either just folded or packed into their own Samsonite luggage carrier which doubles as a trailer for touring.

What we lack for in trains here in the Puget Sound we make up for with an estimated 500,000 boats permanently moored in the area.  The folded Bike Friday is so compact it can be easily stowed on a boat making each port of call an opportunity to continue cruising on land.

We know our mantra has always been that you don't need to wear special clothes to ride our Dutch bikes, but I make exception when it comes to fine wool and oil-skin fashions. For those of you who like to wear fashionable clothes when you cycle, we have something very special. [caption id="attachment_210" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Nan in green dress by bicigirl @ Flickr"][/caption] This coming Sunday November 9th, from 11 AM to 1 PM, we'll be hosting B.Spoke Tailor at our Seattle shop where you can check out some of the finest cycling clothing around.  Founder and expert tailor Nan Eastep will be on hand to showcase her fabulous line of wool riding knickers, oil-skin coats and backpacks.  The color palette of her clothes are perfect for fall riding and more functional than 90% of what's out there.