Rustcycles: Girard & Oxford

If you look closely, this lovely lady can be yours for only $30.

Rustcycles is a series of abandoned bicycles and locks I've stumbled upon throughout Philadelphia.

On the Earthship, Lollipop...

Most stories on this blog have been random occurrences. This, I sought to find.

Several months ago, I found out Earthship was doing a build in Philly. I wanted to participate, but I know I'm way too busy as it is. I DID want to at least stop in to see the progress, and I finally did last Saturday.

Riding up North 41st Street, the neighborhood turns a little rough not too far past Market Street. At first, I wasn't sure I was in the right place, but then I saw the lot...

Just a foundation, and covered in snow, but awesome nonetheless. I'll have more pics posted some time. Can't wait to see what this looks like when it's complete!

Nice Rack: Passyunk & Dickinson

One thing I've noticed about every city I've visited, artistic expression is plentiful. Case in point:

If you look closely, those are actually woven covers - not paint - on the bike racks across the street from the P.O.P.E.

THE COLORS!

Nice Racks is a series of bike rack art I've stumbled upon throughout Philadelphia.

Rustcycles: 2nd & Girard

For months, when I was living in Northern Liberties, I would pass by this bicycle on my way to wherever I was going in Fishtown, and I'd see it every time I went to the grocery store that's on the same corner.

It was painted completely white and decorated with a sign reading "A memorial for Antonio Sandoval." For whatever reason, I never remembered to look up his story. Until today, that is.

He was apparently killed not long after I moved to Philadelphia, at the corner of 2nd & Girard. There was also a memorial gathering in the park right down the street from my apartment that I'm pretty sure I walked past, because we had a seminar at SHI that weekend.

Right down my street and I had no idea any of this happened. Huh...

Rustcycles is a series of abandoned bicycles and locks I've stumbled upon throughout Philadelphia.

Rustcycles: 4th & Race

You'd think the second person would have known better...

Rustcycles is a series of abandoned bicycles and locks I've stumbled upon throughout Philadelphia.

Rustcycles: 18th & Rittenhouse

I'm not entirely sure what the vandal was trying to accomplish here...

Rustcycles is a series of abandoned bicycles and locks I've stumbled upon throughout Philadelphia.

"Dumpster" Diving

I decided not to post part five of my short series. I think it ended on a good note as is.

At any rate, the phenomenon of dumpster diving first came to my attention when I was in college. Friends of mine apparently decided to raid the dumpster in their apartment complex looking for God knows what. They ended up finding a bunch of packaged foods that they decided to eat - and they survived.

It doesn't have to go to that extreme, but it can if you choose. And even though I appreciate many of the finer things in life, I'm not above dumpster diving, especially if there's potential for a good yield. One such incident with some friends behind Trader Joes netted several bottles of unopened, unexpired mustard that turned out to be quite tasty.

Though not an actual dumpster dive, I was in Northern Liberties the other morning when I saw a trash can sitting outside the front door of the residence I was servicing. I noticed there wasn't a trash bag in the can, but rather just a bunch of stuff thrown in there, mostly unwanted household items. I decided to take a look.

There was a good amount of stuff in there, most of which I didn't want, but I did manage to snag a nifty little lamp that will clip to my work/project table, a mini backpack that appeared to be a digital camera case or something similar, and two nice ceramic elephant sculptures. Unfortunately, the sculptures didn't survive the trip home, even though I wrapped them as best as possible. Philly potholes are killer.

Anyway, that old saying "One man's trash is another man's treasure" is totally true.

Oh Wow Wednesday Part 4: The Keyless to my Heart

In case you haven't been reading, I sometimes go several days between stories worth writing about, but this past Wednesday I encountered quite a few that I decided to write in a short series. This will be the fourth of five, and here are parts one, two and three.

After clocking out at Wash Cycle (shameless plug #1), I rode home to clean up for my afternoon job and evening activities. I was home for all of about 20 minutes, just enough time to shower and get changed. Strengthening Health Institute (shameless plug #2) was hosting a seminar at our local natural foods store, Essene Market (shameless plug #3), so I biked over there to grab lunch beforehand.

After eating, I had some time to kill before the seminar students arrived. I stepped out front briefly to get some fresh air, when I heard someone to my right ask "Excuse me, do you think you could help me?"

There was a middle-aged woman standing beside a parked BMW with the driver's side door hanging open, waving as she called for me in a somewhat helpless manner.

She asked "Do you know anything about cars?"

Technically, everyone knows at least something about cars, right? So I said "Yea, I'll see what I can do."

She also asked me if I worked for the market, and I said "Well I'm here enough, I probably should." I guess I had cleaned up nicely after that incident with the flat tire.

She couldn't get her car started. OK, it happens. Except this time, it was one of these new-fangled keyless starters, which I've never used. Seems kinda shady to me. But at any rate...

Completely going against my male instinct, I reached into the glove compartment to check out the owner's manual to read the manufacturer's opinion. It took all of about 3 seconds for me to get the car started. It seemed remarkably simple, and I guess it was, but it made her day.

She said "Oh thank you so much. You are a life saver. I've never used one of these before. Thank you so much." I'm still not sure how she got there without knowing how to use the car.

She continued on, "Your girlfriend, or boyfriend, whoever, must be very happy." Hah. I guess I really did clean up nicely.

I answered, "Actually, I'm single. And I like women. Haha..."

She responded, "Well I hope you find a nice girl. You're a good guy."

Well thank you, random woman on the street.

Part five (and the conclusion of this short series) tomorrow if I have energy after doing taxes (or if I feel like procrastinating and/or avoiding them altogether).

Oh Wow Wednesday Part 3: Fix a Flat

After I said goodbye to my momentary riding companion, I was on my way to Rittenhouse Square for my first appointment in what seemed like forever. In reality, it was only about a half hour.

As I was pulling up to the building, I noticed my front tire was running a little low, so, after picking up the customer's bag, I pumped it up and moved on to my next appointment a little early. That turned out to be a good thing...

I arrived 15 minutes early, dropped off and picked up from the customer and was about to move on, when I hopped on the bike and noticed that it wouldn't turn. Flat.

Flats happen fairly often, as you might expect with such high amounts of mileage, so it wasn't supposed to be a big deal. Normally, patching a tire should only take 5, maybe 10 minutes max.

For whatever reason, this particular tire was nearly STUCK in the rim. I could see the rubber flaking off as I tried to pull it out. At one time, the tire iron slipped out of my hand and I banged my knuckle quite fiercely on the spokes, causing me to involuntarily spew out a series of 4-letter words.

Eventually, I got it, but it took three tire irons and the help of a passing gentleman who happened to hear me swearing be carrying a tool bag containing some oil to grease the wheel (or tire). Strangely enough, even though he claimed to have done this many times "in his day," I never thought to ask him to do it for me. I guess I was determined? Maybe ignorant? At any rate, I was glad he stopped. That little bit helped a ton.

When I did finally get the bead out of the rim, finding the puncture was rather easy. I patched it up and was soon back on the road, now about 20 minutes behind schedule. I just barely made it to the last one before 11 and headed back to the laundromat with my trailer now full.

All told, by the time I got back to the office, I had already logged about 18 miles that morning, not including rides to and from home...

Part 4 tomorrow.

Oh Wow Wednesday Part 2: Bike "Race"

After my morning reminiscence, I had a long way to go to my next delivery in Rittenhouse Square, no matter which route I was to take. In an effort to keep things interesting, I opted to go west on Girard Avenue and south through the Fairmount area simply because I hardly ever ride through there.

Somewhere around Ridge Avenue, a young woman biked past me, stopping shortly just ahead at a red light. I like to think there's a solidarity amongst cyclists (that's my best excuse), so when I pulled up at the light, I made sure to say "hi." The light turned green, and we continued on.

There wasn't any big experience here, just a rather funny situation for about 10 minutes where she would pull ahead for a few blocks and seemingly lose me, then I'd catch up, then the reverse would happen, until finally somewhere around Market Street, she turned left and I said "bye."

I should have given her my number when we were stopped at a red light. Damn!

Anyway, the day rolled on...

Oh Wow Wednesday Part 1: Memory Burn

Today was a loaded day. I was busy to begin with, and a few interesting things happened along the way, but first, a reflection...

I had a delivery in Northern Liberties this morning, immediately after a delivery in South Philly. The 3+ mile ride between deliveries was, let's say, an invigorating start to my day.

Thankfully, I had a bit of a lull afterward, so I took a brief 2 block detour to my old apartment, above "The Fire."

It felt so weird to be there, and I don't know why. I come back to this neighborhood at least once a week, if not three or four times, for work, and I still play Open Mic Night down the street. So why did it feel so strange to be here?

I was thinking how awesome it felt when I moved there. Now, I feel like I don't "belong" there for some reason. I guess the place served its purpose. Really, it was kind of a dump, but in some ways, I miss it. Mostly how cheap it was to live there. Hah.

It's only been 4 months since I moved out, but it seems like much longer. It's only been 1 year since I moved to Philadelphia, but again, it seems like much longer.

At any rate, I moved on (both then and now), because I still had more deliveries...

Rustcycles: Spruce & Juniper

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...

Several weeks ago, I snapped this picture of an abandoned bike frame near Spruce & Juniper Streets:

Today, I had a delivery at the same building and noticed that said frame was now gone:

Never thought I'd see that. There are abandoned bicycles that have been unattended for YEARS.

No word on whether or not the guy in that truck took it, either.

Rustcycles is a series of abandoned bicycles and locks I've stumbled upon throughout Philadelphia.

Government (Snow) Removal

Note: I intend not to let this blog get political, but as is typical of the way I think, it's bound to happen from time to time. Particularly when the government's actions (or inactions) make my life and work DANGEROUS.

Most of you probably know that the law in many municipalities requires that snow be removed by the owner of the property within a certain amount of time. Of course, it's a little ridiculous that we have to have laws like this to begin with, designed to keep people in line because their sense of decency has been overcome by laziness, but anyway...

The city of Philadelphia is in the throes of Winter storm Thor, which is blanketing us with several inches of thick, wet snow. It's beautiful in most cases. But today, while walking home from work, my usual sure-footedness was interrupted by a large patch of ice that was concealed by the freshly-fallen layer of snow.

Where was this? On a city property: Mario Lanza park to be exact.

I guess the government doesn't feel it's necessary to fine itself, or to obey its own laws.

Triskaidekaphobia

Fear of the number 13. It's most definitely a thing.

Years ago, my Dad told me that tall buildings didn't have 13th floors, and for years, I believed him but never saw proof. Until this morning, when I went to deliver a bag just across the street from the Mütter Museum and saw this in the elevator:

It's amusing because the 14th floor is technically the 13th floor, and you really can't not have a 13th floor. I guess ignorance is bliss? Double negatives are bliss, too.

My Trailer Overfloweth

14 bags of laundry from one customer. This happens every so often...

I think this is more clothing than I've owned in my entire life combined.