portland design works

images, works and words that inspire us

loveforiron:

Greg Lemond sporting the Oakley Eyeshades during the 1986 Milan-San Remo.

loveforiron:

Greg Lemond sporting the Oakley Eyeshades during the 1986 Milan-San Remo.

9 hours ago

This is what it’s all about.

railpass:

Chicago to Port Huron, Michigan by Train

And then, just like that my alarm was going off at 3am. The woods were silent, my campfire turned to embers, but the waves nearby made their presence known. In the pitch black I packed up my gear one last time, threw dirt on the coals, and rode back onto the beach. I needed a few pedal strokes and some lake water splashed on my face before the grogginess wore off and I remembered I needed the water to be on my other side.

The moon was bright, but just barely so, for this last beach ride. The ride was so low, surprisingly, that I could just ride around each of those damn sea walls. Going through Port Huron, the noise of my tires bounced off the buildings, stirring an occasional dog. Only rolling into the Amtrak station did I finally see other people shuffling in and out of cars. It was pretty clear rain had fallen recently, though I was dry my entire ride back. You could see storm clouds overhead.

The conductors from three days before recognized me, and as the train took off light finally entered the sky. It was the first real brilliant sunrise I had seen all week, and almost immediately after it ended storm clouds moved back in and poured down for the entirety of Michigan, and some of Indiana too. I was pretty tired and running on a solitary sausage, so I napped occasionally. The Midwest is starting to get its yellow foliage, as I imagine the rest of the county is as well, and there aren’t many better ways to see it than on a train cutting swiftly through, with only an occasional sign of civilization.

Apparently some snails hitched a ride back on my bike, and after moving them to a safer spot for the ride home from the station they are now living fat at a friend’s apartment.

Keep Moving.

These guys.

These guys.

1 day ago

I’ll say it again…fat bikes are no fun. And dumb.

I’ll say it again…fat bikes are no fun. And dumb.

(Source: ridepdw, via andreaele)

1 day ago

redhousecanada:

micdotcom:

15 poewrful Jose Mujica quotes no other leader has the guts to say

"Modest yet bold, liberal and fun-loving."

Naming Uruguay the country of the year in 2013, the Economist may very well have described the rising nation’s head of state, President José “Pepe” Mujica.

Known for his unusual frankness, fiery oration and bold leadership to turn ideas into action, the 78-year-old leader possesses and practices the very characteristics that many world leaders fail to emulate. He has also garnered international acclaim for his progressive policies, down-to-earth personality and simple presentation, which has earned him a reputation as “the world’s poorest president.”

Read more | Follow micdotcom

Good Stuff

Listen To Rare Earth

metrofiets:

The very first Metrofiets® cargo bike. Still pluggin’ away after all these years. Diggin the wheelbarrow pan. #CargoBike #cargoaway #bakfiets

metrofiets:

The very first Metrofiets® cargo bike. Still pluggin’ away after all these years. Diggin the wheelbarrow pan. #CargoBike #cargoaway #bakfiets

3 days ago

Idle hands, and whatnot.

railpass:

Fat Bike Touring on Lake Huron: Lakeport State Park

In my last post I asked if all the problems that can happen on a bike tour in, well, not the best conditions were worth it. If asked that question when I arrived at the first campsite, I would’ve said “Yeah, skip this next time.” Or maybe opt for an on-pavement route up the shore where I could go further in the same amount of time. But that first night’s park was small, and entirely catering to RV campers who come to park their gigantic vehicles around some trees and eat outside. Being on the edge of another port-town by a highway, though depressing this isn’t really too surprising.

On my second day, fog had taken over the shore for the ride back south and hid any sign of the park until, suddenly, I found myself in the middle of its shore with no signs of civilization in either narrowly-visible direction. I’m sure this park has a big entrance off a highway and loads of boring RV parking spots, but rolling into the park from the shore was such a charming experience that I felt no need to investigate further into that kind of endless sadness. A small trail in the sand cut through the birch into denser oaks and pines until I came to a small clearing- what looked like a communal area with no one else around. Just a fire pit next to a little grove of trees to throw the hammock between. It was perfect.

It wasn’t until the moment I had the fire going and a surprise vegan sausage I had forgotten about in another bag (this made me insanely happy) cooking that I finally felt it was all worth it. You could drive to here, sure, but then you’d be stuck in some shoebox parking spot staring at the RVs around you. You could even ride on pavement to get to here, of course, but you wouldn’t be cold and wet enough to truly appreciate the fire. I firmly believe these moments are earned, and only by taking the initiative to find the hard way do you really get the reward of simple pleasures.

Such a rad journey.