In what I hope will be the first of many monthly(ish) articles, of varying lengths, Nikolai and I visited (in)famous bicycle designer Mike Burrows, who has been a constant in terms of support, inspiration and taking me down a peg or two when I need it (always). Nikolai filmed our trip on my Sony A7iii as part of an ongoing project, so I decided it would be especially fitting for Mike to document our trip on celluloid with my Mamiya C330, and a little Olympus rangefinder on Kodak Portra 800 film.
Over the past few weeks I’ve enjoyed becoming re-acquainted with an old friend. As I’ve been slowing back down to a more creative and contemplative speed, un-encumbered by “normality” or any other external influence and bolstered by the vivid dreams associated with normal sleep patterns, a relaxed mind and inappropriately timed cheese consumption, I’ve settled nicely into fat tyres and riding fixed on sandy beaches. As the salty air of coastal living coupled with a lack of access to spares, tools and equipment that allow our bikes to keep rolling, caused the rideable bikes of our household to drop like flies. I was forced to delve deep into the museum of slightly broken bicycles that is my loft.
It’s been almost a year since NAHBS. I was pretty nervous about going to America, but just before I left I heard that the Dynaplug people; who I’d developed a vague online relationship with, were here in London so we met up for fish and chips. Long story short, they were awesome, we really hit it off, and they totally put my mind at ease about my trip. We made plans to meet again in Chico while I was there, but my whirlwind schedule around NAHBS and subsequent road trip with the legendary Anna Schwinn (which was probably one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life) didn’t allow time-wise.
What does a 1997 Chevy Lumina, a whoopee cushion, and Planned Parenthood have in common?