eighty-seven; Anya Silver Commuter

She’s like the organic, local, apple pies she’s selling; an American spirit, that’s revolutionary in practice.
Moved to S.F. from Russia at five with her mother, a mechanical engineer, who settled for a paralegal job (her degree didn’t transfer).
This one’s passions, however, wont still easily,
She’s the wheels behind the local food movement, working at farmer’s markets three days a week, editing the Society for Agriculture and Food Ecology’s DIY zine and turning the earth into edibles in the community garden.
She tells me how to make my own butter and signs her work, “Be bold in your endeavors”

eighty-six; Robert, Bianchi Road Bike (with a homemade Smiths card in rear wheel)

Four Germen engineers walk into an American bar and decide that our social life is more like a cardboard representation than good time.
He would know, he used to spin at a theater in Munich and he’s wearing personalized Morrissey shoes.
By night, he stencils, drinks till he’s good and rosy and listens to Block Party,
By day, argues about the efficacy of design.
“They make us build massive amounts of models so rapidly, we can’t possibly get it right. If I had a week to compute I’d get it the first time.”
He certainly seems to understands America alright.

eighty-five; Rustin, Trek Mountain Bike

Hard as the world tries to define him; second-generation, Persian-American, Southern-Californian, Pre-Med, fourth year…he’s always been independent.
He lives in a Wild house, where people call to check up on him, where he danced and DJ’d on Halloween and where housemates smile when mentioning each other’s names.
A man of his own passions
His blog about music caused so much legal drama he stopped writing, he likes the more obscure Tarantino and has traveled a good chunk of Europe.
Skeptical of being painted as the “Dr., Lawyer or Failure” stereotype, he asserts (convincingly) that he’s actually “totally fascinated by science.”

eighty-four; Debbie, Cannondale Road Bike (dad's)

She has a 10:30 Boba appointment and this seems to be a fitting metaphor for her kind of balance,
shockingly lighthearted considering the weight of her workload.
Shooting for her PHD because she thinks teaching seems fun (in part inspired by her father who teaches adult ESL).
Traveled Thailand with her mom for fun, but ended up a volunteer for the Red Cross in a hospital for Agent Orange victims.
She’s not particularly political (didn’t vote in the last election) but she is profoundly principled (smiles at strangers).
I’d argue it’s her San Diego roots getting grounded in Berkeley’s soil.

eighty-three; Tj Trek Mountain Bike (Oakland Flea Market)

When he tell me that he worked in “anti-piracy” in the Navy, I think it’s strange that military is so concerned with Napster.
He means Actual pirates.
When he tells me that he spent 8months in South Africa I think Endless Summer.
He was volunteering for a youth organization in Cape Town.
He says Legal Studies; I think corporate law,
He means physics.
Genuinely considerate, he offers to move inside when I mention the cold.
His are not the drilled in manners of boot camp, rather the refined epaulets of real world knowledge.
Transfer students are what hold Cal together.

eighty-two; Paul, Felt Single Speed with Coaster Brakes

He’s got a year clean, but tells me that’s nothing in “user time,”
His habit started with a broken back and a prescription, and it ended with o.d.-ing twice in one week.
OC took away a lot of good memories (childhood tinkering on old single speeds) and burned in new ones (the phone number of his former dealer).
Last week he celebrated his birthday by signing the lease to his own bike shop, building a new life around an old passion.
And though he doesn’t claim to be an artist,
He welds $20 yard sale finds into $1000 track bikes.

eighty-one; Joe, Univega Road Bike ($20 thrift store)

Some are defined by the things they’ve done; he has done things, but he’s the one making the definitions.
He was in a Grind Core band that toured the East Coast; he’s traveled the entire continental United States and lived in several of them.
He doesn’t feel this entitles him to anything (in fact it’s a journey getting him to tell me anything).
My questions make him nervous, but he lets me walk beside him a few blocks.
It’s Halloween and though he tells me he “has little patience for stupid people” he certainly appears to be amused by them.