The scene was chaotic and beautiful. A grungy warehouse with a couple of boats and miscellaneous engines laying to the side had been transformed into a giant celebration for bicycles. People were everywhere. The jumble of voices enlivened the room. Sculptures made from old rims tied together with bike tubes extended into the sky, marking the entrance to the Portland Bike Swap.
I arrived right around 10am. I hopped off of my '83 Schwinn Le Tour (lovingly named BlooDoo or Dewey), locked up, and headed inside. I spotted Fred immediately, adorned in his very decorative Bicycle Coalition of Maine hat. He gathered the volunteers for a round of introductions, and we all set off to work in our various stations. I constructed a valet bike parking facility, complete with a couple of recumbents and unicycles available for test rides. A few feet away, some kids from the Bike Shop played chess on a checkered board glued to the inside of a bike wheel. All of the chess pieces were made from bike parts, painted black or silver.
The atmosphere was bright and energetic. What started out as a substantial collection of bicycles overflowing from multiple racks at 10am, ended with just a small handful of remaining bicycles at 2pm. It was awesome to see so many people excitedly leave the Swap with their new-used machines.
I had acquired a snazzy new machine the day before. I rode down Congress until I hit India, where I took a right, then a quick left into Cyclemania, where my bike trailer was waiting for me. I swung my leg over the side of the bike and wheeled it through the door. After a quick adjustment, I was off again—this time pulling behind me a piece of equipment that will carry everything I need to survive for my upcoming months on the road.
