Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. The vaguely bizarre, frog-like electronic noises emanating from my backpack let me know that I had an incoming phone call.
"I'm locking my bike up right now. I'll be up in a second," said the voice on the other end. The voice belonged to Adam Piper, the brave soul who agreed ride a bicycle with me for 3,500 miles this upcoming summer. A minute later, a tall man in his early twenties walked into my friends' apartment. It was about 6:30 on Saturday evening, and Adam had just ridden his bicycle into Portland from his apartment in Westbrook. "How's it goin', Piper?" I asked, hands and arms covered in white ink. Newspapers lined the floor, and several feet of dark cloth lay sprawled across the living room. I was busily wiping excess ink off of my stencil-cut silkscreen with a clean rag. Images of chainrings, old Schwinn Stingrays, road bikes, and the word "velorution" were sprinkled across the expanse of the cloth. A couple of paintbrushes, a squeegee, and a tub of white ink sat to the side of the cluttered production. The room mates—Katie, Brian, and Eileen—were content and engaged in their own individual projects. Katie sat at her computer, trying to finish her weekend homework. Eileen sat on the couch knitting a sweater. Brian took a nap.
"What's this?" asked Piper, mildly intrigued by the whole production.
"I'm making bike patches," I responded, "I'm going to give them out in exchange for donations."
"Well, I'll certainly buy one," said Piper. "Me too" was the general consensus in the room.
Figuring out new ways to further the cause of better biking conditions in the state of Maine has become one of my new pastimes. Last week, I sent request letters to friends and family. The week before, I designed and carved a linoleum block print of a bicycle and made hand-printed cards. The week before that, I participated in a phone interview for the Portland Press Herald; the story ran later that week. A few days ago, another news station contacted me with a request to run a piece about the trip.
All of this work and attention surrounding my efforts to raise money for the Bicycle Coalition of Maine has been, well, inspiring.
Yes, inspiring. It has been amazing to see how many people are in total support of what I am doing. People I don't even know and didn't even ask have sent donations to the BCM on behalf of my trip. Fellow board members have offered their advice, financial contributions, and extensive bike gear to help me on my trip. I've already been able to raise several hundred dollars for the Bicycle Coalition of Maine—an amount that I would not be able to contribute on my own.
"Hey, guess what," said Piper, leaning forward in his seat.
"What's up?" I asked.
"I bought my new panniers today. I spent about four hours online trying to find the perfect match, and I think I found them."
"Yeah, what are they like?"
Piper's eyes widened with excitement, "They're black, front and rear bags, with a capacity of 3,500 cubic inches. When is your trailer supposed to come in?"
"Sometime next week," I replied with a smile, putting the cap back on the bucket of ink and folding up the newspapers.
