I have a 54cm Con Brio lugged road frame that’s been sitting in the corner of our “office” collecting dust and bumming me out because it should be out in the world getting used.  Maybe it’s the Holiday Spirit or the potent homebrew I’m imbibing but I decided to take $400 off the asking price.  There more info posted in the “for sale” pages.

The Bazaar features the best locally produced or locally designed (some are made far away)  products, all of which would round out most of your Christmas shopping nicely.  There will be an assortment of Portland’s reknowned food carts and an impromptu cafe and lounge furnished by a local roaster and one of the show’s furniture makers.  Should be a good time, come by and say “hi.”

At a time when one is practically extpected to photograph everything for external validation not having the camera gives me a chance to pause and reflect on the consequences of living, posing, creating, and pausing for the shutter.  Don’t get me wrong, I love taking pictures– I studied photography in school, and my sister was a professional photographer.  But as digital photography evolved and became more and more ubiquitous our little cameras take a hold of the details of our daily lives and work, and cast them out into the world for the evaluation of others.

While I do what I can to take attractive, informative photos of my work and my world photography is not my art.  Documentation is fine and important but as a collection of evidence it has a way of replacing the reality of a person, place, or thing.  As little as five years ago I kept my favorite pictures, taken with my Mom’s 30-year old Canon FTb, in a photo album that I only shared on rare occaisions and with the people close to me.  Many of those photographs I manually developed myself.  When that camera stopped working I took it to a store that’s now a Dunn Bros. coffee shop and they replaced a spring and it worked again.

Photography now is more compulsory and impulsive.   Especially now that I am in the business of making stuff and have a Flickr account I there’s an obligation I feel to keep contributing to the public’s demand for photographic proof.  When I don’t post fresh pictures the website shows my numbers going down– the human reaction to that is to keep posting, to maintain the feeling that I’m doing something important.

Framebuilding as a process is pretty interesting, and the people interested in that process tend toward a fascination with it.  It’s because of this that Flickr is lousy with my colleagues in the Coalition of Hammer and Torch, and why we update our pages as much as we tend to.  After all it’s easy to get a few hundred people seeing your newest project while you get to spend the day working in blissful solitude.  The result is like a drug though– immediate and thrilling.  But ultimately the reality of each of the bikes that I build takes off from where I stop photographing them, when they’re out in the world with miles before and behind them, with smiling riders and spilling cameras.

 Steve J. from New Jersey just posted pics of his Capricorn Wilder as it is now a complete bicycle.  The build features a stately set of components including a Brooks saddle, Nitto quill stem, and the polished Paul Components “Racer” brakes: all of which compliment the aesthetic scheme and purpose of the bicycle nicely.

{Steve’s Flickr Set}

{Build Shots from the Capricorn Workshop} 

The Wilder is a bicycle made for long rides.  It combines a mid-weight tubeset, long wheelbase, and comfortable riding position to embody what a steel bicycle does best.  It’s also built with plenty of room for generous tires, so it will feel right on all types of road surfaces and trails.

]]> http://www.capricornbicycles.com/blog/steves-custom-wilder/feed/ 0 http://www.capricornbicycles.com/blog/historical-badasses/ http://www.capricornbicycles.com/blog/historical-badasses/#comments Thu, 10 Nov 2011 22:17:24 +0000 Brad http://www.capricornbicycles.com/?p=886

circa 1885

I saw a mountain lion while out on my morning ride.  It was a brief sighting– I was going fast down a hill and through a curve when I saw it running for cover in the trees along the road.  If you don’t have an engine heralding your presence it’s somewhat easier I suppose to catch a glimpse of a creature that prefers to go unseen.

There was frost on the ground, too, and dense steam rising from sunlit ice along the shoulder of the road.  Leaves of aspens, maples, and oaks are changing color as they do; and the hillsides, being mostly future conifer timber, remain deep green.

To ride south out of Eugene and into the hills means a long climb no matter which way one goes.  But on a brisk morning like this it feels good to make the muscles work right away, and build that inner heat– slow and even, breathing deeply.  After about a mile into the climb the city recedes into the miles travelled, and the climb doesn’t feel like a chore because the ride’s just beginning.

It feels important to me to have moved out here and to have this opportunity to reconnect with why I love to ride a bicycle.  Minneapolis served that purpose for a few years, but it’s just the same traffic and sprawl, traffic and sprawl.  It didn’t help that I’m so stubborn that I’ll rarely allow myself the luxury of starting and ending a bike ride by climbing into my truck and driving somewhere.  Oregon is definitely not paradise but it’s still a somewhat wild place, and Oregonians seem pretty keen on treating it as such rather than a landscape that’s only there for the having.

Here in Eugene, Capricorn HQ is within 2 miles of three natural food stores, two homebrew stores, the best Indian restaurant, the Saturday and Tuesday Public Markets, Oregon Leather (yep, rode home with two hides for Amber yesterday), parks, coffee shops (some even that aren’t a Starbucks), bike paths, a big-ass library, an outdoor vegan food stand, and all the wayfarers and weirdos you could want.  It’s convenient to have all that at hand, but when you’re out for a ride it’s better to have contrast to keep the ride from ever feeling like a routine or chore.  Once I’m away from the city cycling begins to feel less like a statement and more like a purpose.

Fully lugged and brazed with silver, powdercoat by Spectrum Powder Works with matte finish; built to sell, and ideally suited to someone that doesn’t need the full custom treatment but still wants a distinctively hand-built frame.  I built this frame and fork in tandem with a custom order and wanted to bring it along to the Heartland Velo Show, which it wasn’t ready for in time.  Alas, now it’s ready for pavement whenever you are.  Click here to see the Flickr gallery of this frame and its construction.  “Plussed” means it’s built for medium reach (57mm) brake calipers and fully stocked with fender bosses.  A great set-up for four-season riding.

Details: Built for medium-reach brakes, with extra room for 28mm tires and fenders.  Geometry: seat 54 top 53 head 72 seat 73 standover 79.5.  6.0 pounds with fork, built with Dedacciai 12.5 COM tubing and Long Shen investment cast lugs.

The bicycle business has a notorious slow season, followed by a heady rush of activity in late Winter and Spring.  While there are some prospective Capricorns in the design stage currently, I’m holding out for a few more orders before calling in for a fresh batch of raw materials.  Fortunately no one seems to be in a hurry, myself included.  It’s given me a chance to pursue other interests like actually going for bike rides, and researching the best doughnuts in town (definitely not Voodoo Doughnuts, proving once again that getting hyped on The Food Network must come with some bad juju).

A couple days ago Amber and I started working together on her backpacks, which she can’t make fast enough alone to keep in stock.  She’ll be handling the stitching, and I’ll be (at least temporarlily) doing the cutting.  Pictured above are the 25 bags worth of waxed canvas, cotton duck, and Cordura that I cut for her pending orders.  Her own sales have been flourishing– filling the demand for backpacks that are stylish, practical, simple, hand-crafted, and made from (mostly) natural materials.  You can browse the finished pieces at her new website.

While the framebuilding slow season is somewhat tempered by a clientele base that’s keen on planning ahead bear in mind that ordering, designing, building, painting, and shipping a Capricorn takes on average 3-5 months.  I do better, more personalized work when I’m not rushed, not juggling the details of a bunch of other builds, and not distracted by the same warm, glorious Spring weather that will eventually beckon you outdoors.  You might as well have your bicycle ready by then.

Who can argue with a simple black bicycle?  No matter what ends up getting bolted to it, the finished piece always looks right.  And if need be it’s always easy to find the right touch-up paint.  Amanda’s husband, Phil, sent me a link to his page devoted to her new Cappy.  The frame features a custom geometry (like many women Amanda now benefits from a short top tube), brass c’s and chainstrike plate, and a self-designed cursive logo.  The bike turned out beautifully.  Happy riding, Amanda.

The new Capricorn Bicycles workshop is almost completed!  The space is rustic, homey, and feels inviting to me.  I look forward to crafting bicycle frames within, sipping on a piping hot cup of coffee whilst the autumn rains I hear so much about patter on the tin roof.  Check out the interior shots over at the Flickr page.