fifty-seven; Chelsey, Bianchi Road bike

At some point most actors are faced with the reality of their craft, innocence lost; waiting tables for the rest of their life is a scary possibility.
Perhaps it’s the fact that she’s from Southern California (and smart) that she realized this before she finished college.
Now she follows the flow of content across media platforms, drinks yerba mate and takes classes in DIY kombucha making.
Flashcards, study groups and typed lecture notes; she can do school, or at least portray it convincingly.
Though tomorrow’s midterm is sitting in the wings, she’s already got this weekend’s denouement within tongue’s reach.

fifty-six; Carlos, Amalgam commuter bike

His shopping cart is full of bunt cake and chewing gum; face draped thick with skepticism as I start interviewing him in the deli section of Safeway at 10:30pm.
This is what happens when one moves into their first studio apartment senior year of college; they eat food that would disappoint any mother and don’t trust strange men questioning them in public.
He’s studying pre-law (which explains the wariness).
He balances all this with a gallon of skim milk and his desire for social justice or environmental law (plus the fact that he drives a bio-diesel B.M.W. back at home).

fifty-five; Sean, Steel Peugeot Fixed Gear with Carbon Forks

A champagne cork hangs from his seat, a throwback to 1920’s track racing when it represented the celebration of inevitable victory and the stored explosion waiting to pop from the rider’s legs.
Untapped potential like a Cornell Geo-Physics degree hanging on the wall of a Peat’s barista.
“In this economy I’m just grateful for a job,” he spouts with sincerity, not at all shy.
His interest in physics sprung from a love affair with a rainbow, he commuted to and from SF this weekend for 45min of music and studies the earth just to say he knows how it spins.

fifty-four; Susheel, Trek Mountain Bike (free from a bike shop)

Though aware of the price of his time at Cal, he allows himself the occasional Patriot’s experience of getting beer faced at homecoming.
What would be the point in transferring from University in Scotland if he didn’t enjoy some U.S. debauchery rite?
He’s getting his American dollar’s worth, studying Latin-American Art History, riding his bike across the Bay Bridge and going to American football games instead of pseudo-European raves in the city.
The cost of admittance inspires his diligence, so he picks his vices wisely.
He has learned the price of Saturday night,
“That’s what Sundays are for right?”

fifty-three; Charley, Raleigh Road Bike

So what if we lost?
It’s homecoming, Dads in town and it’s Saturday night.
Gone are the warm months of summer paralegal practice, now he’s neck deep in infinite briefs.
But Law School’s labors subside tonight just long enough to gulp in a bit of October bite (a warm one by his Salt Lake City standards) and watch the slaughter of the home team.
“I guess we can’t be good at everything.”
I ask him why law and he replies modestly,
“Well I knew I wanted to go for a PHD or something.”
This is one hell of a something.

fifty-two; Mikael, Steel Road bike with big baskets

He didn’t like school, wasn’t into Washington.
He did like bikes, he liked coffee and he liked friends.
How can he make this work?
(First try)
Move to Panama with friends and grow coffee.
It was worth a shot.
Hopped a plane and went all in.Way more pricy than practical.
Scratch that.
Move to Berkeley, make friends, roast free-trade coffee from contacts made in Panama and deliver it…by bike.
Make business cards, make good with neighbors (“who doesn’t like free coffee?”), and make sales.
Made it happen.
Celebrate! Friday night burlesque show in Oakland, paper-bag IPA and a bike ride.

fifty-one; Planet, Schwinn Varsity 10-speed

“Too much dessert can make you sick.” And apparently Austin, Texas was a cakewalk.
Eight years ago he gave up everything but his van, drove to the heart of abandon (Telegraph St. in Berkeley) and fed on frugality.
He learned to live without the big luxuries (like a job) and the little ones (like his ego).
“I try to let go of things, and I have to trust that they will come comeback when I need them.”
They did.
He has an apartment now, and he runs a bike repair service with no advertising relying on the “boomerang of karma.”