It's been a long, long time...

and so much
has been happening!

a new bike

a new marriage

and
a whole new spring

A smashing success!

Saturday,
23 January 2010

The BBC's
Cozy Hearth Tweed Ride
from Aaron Bussey
on Vimeo

Let your tweed flag fly!

on the Cozy Hearth
Tweed Ride...

Once again, the Central Committee of the BBC chose an unseasonably warm day to gather together nearly 40 ladies & gentleman for a fab tour of the Windy City's posh fireplace pubs. As always there were a lot of new punters who joined last Saturday; but a lot of cheery ole' timers and Ocean Pearls as well. We also had a journalism student along to vid the first stop at Jack's Bar & Grill on Southport just below Lincoln.

The growing interest in our little collective reminds of an article that appeared in The Spectator a few weeks back. It so often happens on the opposite shores of the Atlantic. The Brits despair over the passing of a well-worn tradition just their American cousins herald its rebirth. This time around it's the demise of that dowdy English fashion sense: the threadbare, genteel poverty so valued by the upper classes since the late 18th Century. Harry Mount writes,

The idea was born that it should always take a few seconds to notice if someone is well-dressed. Nobody who was really smart wanted to appear so — that would be ostentatious. Enter those frayed shirt collars, jumpers with the elbows gone, battered chintz rather than fresh new seat covers.

The usefulness of things, no matter how old or time-worn, is what mattered. But now both the masses and classes of Merry Olde are in the thrall of the new, the minimal, and the modern. Think of London's Millennium Wheel and Beetham Tower, both representing the UK's squeaky clean embrace of the 21st Century.

For the first time in history we live in a civilisation where, the richer you are, the fewer things you have, and the newer, cleaner and more stripped-down those things must be.

When I read this I looked around the genial clutter of my apartment and realized that shabby chic is indeed alive and well in this colonial outpost. It's even catching on among the punters on Madison Avenue. Back in November last year, The New York Times described the new wave of hipsters giving up their skinny jeans for tweed trousers and spotty t-shirts for high-lapel vests. And here our Tweed Rides are attracting more bikers than the venerable Midnight Marauders.


Perhaps it has something to do with George Bernard Shaw's observation that England and America are two countries separated by a common language.

Darkness...

the cure?

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day

Lord Byron

Tweed in the 21st Century!

by the
Vulgar Lad

Tweed hits the big time!

and in a paper
of note, no less...

The NYTimes mentions Beer, Bicycles, and Brits, though I wouldn't call us the New Victorians.

This flamboyance is part of a curious new movement called Tweed Rides, informal gatherings of spiffily dressed ladies and gents cycling leisurely through town and disdaining finish lines. Tweed Rides began in London earlier this year and have spread this fall to Boston, San Francisco and Chicago. As the directions for this weekend’s Tweed Ride in Washington, D.C., put it: “Leave the fleece, Lycra and outer shell at home. This ride is for the dandy.”

Burning Guido Fawkes

...the tweedy way!

The Guido Fawkes' Bonfire Tweed Ride was a rousing success last Saturday. Thirty tweedy lads and lassies made it all the way down to Bubbly Dynamics outside Bridgeport. Special thanks to Viscount Wallace for organizing the route and Clan Lloyd for hosting the bonfire. Folks had suggested a November ride so we could wear the full tweed monty without sweating our arses off. But true to style, the weather was unseasonably warm ... perhaps we'll do our next ride in March to force a thaw!

Me & Viscount Wallace
by Heather

Me & Bob
by Allan

A lot of civilians took favorable note of our procession. This from Chainlink Chicago:

This afternoon my friend and I were sitting in a window seat at the Irkosium Cafe on Clark and Foster when my friend said: "Look, there's a guy on a bike who's dressed like Sherlock Holmes!" Before I could turn my head to look he said, "Wow, there's another one." Then the whole posse cycling by.

"Oh, that's a tweed ride," I told him.

"A what?" he asked.

He was impressed that I knew what it was all about.

You all looked very natty biking down Clark Street.

Lovely Lauren certainly thought
it was pithy success
by Aaron

Our honoured guest!
(thanks to Allan)

Burning the bastard!
by Sarah

Remember, remember...

the 7th of November

Well, it's supposed to be on the 5th when the Brits captured poor Guido, AKA Guy, in the cellars of Parliament. But that's a school night so we're doing it on Saturday, when he finally admitted to The Gun Powder Plot after some extreme interrogation methods. In any case, Viscount Wallace has submitted preliminary details here!

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
the Gunpowder Treason and Plot,

I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, t’was his intent to blow up King and Parliament.

Three score barrels were laid below to prove old England’s overthrow;
By God’s mercy he was catch’d with a dark lantern and lighted match.

Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

Hip hip hoorah!

A penny loaf to feed the Pope
A farthing o’ cheese to choke him.

A pint of beer to rinse it down.
A faggot of sticks to burn him.

Burn him in a tub of tar.
Burn him like a blazing star.

Burn his body from his head.
Then we’ll say ol’ Pope is dead.

Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah hoorah!

I've been remiss...

but now
I'm back

It's been a hell of a last 9 months or so. Laid off in February, underemployed until just last month. Among other things, the blog has suffered. First it was the general funk that accompanies what became is the worst unemployment experience in my life. I wasn't turned out of my apartment of a decade; nor did I starve. A lot of good, good friends and close acquaintances had my back. Perhaps the depth of our national economic crisis has brought out in the best of folks or maybe after almost 11 years in the same neighborhood I've found my community: I've certainly learned that it takes a village to survive The Great Recession.

Whatever the reason, I did survive. I've back in a full-time job thanks to some very fine folks in the bike community here. It's as the Resource Development Manager for the Bickerdike Redevelopment Corporation. That's a fancy title for grant-writer and all around fund-raiser. Bickerdike is a member-based, non-profit community development corporation that advocates for, builds, and maintains affordable housing in the Latino and African-American neighborhoods on the northwest. That's a big change for all kinds of reasons. But I'm liking both the mission and the organization. It's also exposing to a whole new world in this great, grand city.

Second, nine months is a damned long time. There were days when my own problems coupled with the general mood of the country nearly overwhelmed me. I kept my sanity by riding ... a lot of riding. With a little help from my friends, I put together The 2nd Winston's Tweed Ride on 12 September. A lot of new folks joined us on a Don't Mention the War bummel that ended up at my neighborhood's annual German-American Festival. Get it?

Then a few weeks ago, Sir Aaron heard about a new tweed ride in Grand Rapids, MI. We loaded up the steeds on his cage and headed over for the day! Amanda, the organizer, as well as her small group of tight friends made us very welcome indeed. I don't think we considered the impact two big city gents would make on our country cousins. And let me say, Grand Rapids is a fantastic city. Imagine a slightly smaller version of Milwaukee, with the same turn of the century architecture, surrounded by rolling meadows and gentle hills a few minutes from Lake Michigan. I would seriously consider moving there if the job were right.

Even outside the City of Big Shoulders,
it takes a tweedy village to survive...

Windy City Wool

Winston's Tweed
hits the Big Time!

Summer babes & elegant bachelors

there's a ride
for you!

John Greenfield, of Vote With Your Feet fame, will be hosting a Tweed-inspired ride this Saturday. It'll be a stylish bicycle tour of Chicago's retro cocktail patios to a soundtrack of classic jazz played on our rolling sound system. For the gents necktie and/or sports jacket are required. And beautiful city bikes and vintage cruisers are recommended. All are welcome; no registration fee!

The Itinerary:

1. Wicker Park Fountain, 1425 N. Damen. Depart around 6:15 pm.
2. Motel Bar, 600 W. Chicago. Dinner? Depart around 7:45 pm.
3. Nomi, 800 N. Michigan, on the 7th floor of Park Hyatt. Depart around 8:45 pm.
4. Uncommon Ground, 3800 N. Clark. Depart around 10:00 pm.
5. BYOB cocktail party near Albany and Kedzie. We’ll stop to pick up libations on the way. If you’d rather call it a night, from Uncommon Ground head south on Southport, west on Diversey and south on Damen back to Wicker Park

Fun with photoshop!

and some really
cool fonts

Cup of Brown Joy

possibly a new theme song
for the tweed rides?

Love a cup…. I would… ah, God yes!
Ooh that is gorgeous. Yeah!

I need a cup of the brown stuff, the shade of an acorn.
Made warm by the same source that I take my cakes from.
Using a tea pot, a mug, or fine china…
Being hooked up to IVs, and constant supplies.

…and the ___ of my urges might verge on the verge of an earthy brown tea.
I’m certain it’s worth it.

We ___ to workers and use a fresh fountain,
I deserve brews from Peruvian mountains.
I’ve slurped up a cup from an elephant’s trunk
with a couple of monks who utterly stunk.

I’ve had bourbons with sultans and creams with queens,
and I’ve bathed in Earl Grey. I’m really that keen!
And missionaries dismiss me for my singular epiphany.
The difference between him and me is a simple sip of British tea!

So when times are hard and life is rough,
You can stick the kettle on and find me a cup!

Now when I say Earl Grey, you say yes please!
Earl Grey — yes please!
Earl Grey — yes please!

When I say Assam, you say lovely!
Assam — lovely!
Assam — lovely!

When I say ooh, you say ahh!
Ooh — ahh!
Ooh — ahh!
Ooh — ahhhhhh!
(muttering?)

I’ve been around the world in 80 brews
to see the place you take me to
to make the brew that tastes like the cream cakes made by angels do.

I’m not the same as you; get shaky with ___.
To swig amazing fluids, but don’t make it the same.
Now, using fine leaves, picked by pretty maidens,
in a bag knitted by a seamstress who lives in Copenhagen.

Brewed up in a pot made of semi-precious metal
And then let the bless-ed contents settle in my very special kettle.

Now, when I say Oo, you say long.
Oo–long!
Oo–long!

When I say herbal, you say no thanks.
Herbal — no thanks!
Herbal — no thanks!

Mmm….no! No, I want.. I want milk in it.
Strong though! I want to see that spoon stand up!

If you’re tired of tea, then you’re tired of life!
Ah-ha! I’m madder than a hatter. It defies my might!
Liken me to Earl Grey, Assam, or Ginger
Lapsang Soushong raise my pinky finger.

Keep your sodding coffee in a proper copper coffee pot.

…. and spot me loving teapot
coffee clocks, nodding off
lost a plot, sodding off
Need some caffeine added and a Batternburg to top it off.

Cut them off a different block. A different lot can take their pay on
80 cups a day, I haven’t slept for 80 years!
You can say I’m mad with tea, or, or just say I’m mad.
Oh, you can’t stay any longer? Oh..
Actually, I’m I’m quite glad.
All the more Battenburg for me!
I can barely pour, my hands have got a bit shaky from caffeine.
Oh, I love it though.
I’d sell my own grandma for a cup.
Well, I’d sell your grandma for a cup…

Don't mention the war...

on Winston's next
tweed ride!

Based on the enthusiasm for Winston's Tweed Ride on 2 May, we hereby announce Winston's DMZV Tweed Ride.

Leaving from Bialystok Pub @1pm, we'll make our way at a genteel, civilizing pace to the 89th Annual German-American Festival in Lincoln Square. And of course we'll be stopping in some damn fine bars representing British allies during that unpleasantness in the 30s & 40s!

Just DMZV!!!

As with our 1st Annual Winston's "Speakeasy" Tweed Ride, we hope to offer small, but significant, prizes for

Most Dapper Chap

Most Snappy Lass

Most Stylish Noble Steed

Most Inspired Interpretation of Tweediness

Best Mustache
(open to both lads and inventive lasses)

We few, we happy few...

we band of bikers!

The 1st Annual Winston's Tweed Ride was a rousing success! Nearly 40 ladies and gents, fabulously kitted out, enjoyed our civil meander past and into some of Chicago's (in)famous speakeasies. More pix here, here, here, here and here! And in honour of such an auspicious occasion, I have cribbed a bit from Mr. Shakespeare's St. Crispen's Day speech...


If we are mark'd to ride, we are enow
To do our city good; and if to live,
The more nutters, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish for one bike more.
By Jove, I am not covetous or bold,
Nor care I who doth join despite the cost;
It yearns me that nutters my tweeds wear;
Such outward things dwell much in my desires.


But if it be a sin to covet nickers,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, I wish I was a man from England.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one bike more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one less!
Rather proclaim it, Tweedyness, through my host,
That they which hath no stomach for this ride,
Let them depart; their Brit bikes shall be praised,
And tyres for convoy put around their necks;
We would sure ride in that one's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.


This day is call'd the feast of Winston’s Ride.
They that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will do a bike-lift when this day is nam'd,
And rouse them at the name of Winston.
They that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast their neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Winston’s Ride.'
Then will they strip their socks and show their scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Winston's day.'


Old farts forget; yet all shan’t be forgot,
But they’'ll remember, with advantages,
What drinks we did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouth as household words-
Lee the Diamond, Pirogi John, Garth,
Aaron and Willow, Tank Ridin’, Dottie-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the old ones teach for fun;
And Winston’s Tweedy Feast shall ne'er go by.


From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of bikers;
For they to-day that sheds their oil with me
Shall be my nutter; be they ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle their condition;
And gentlefolk in Chitown now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they rode not here,
And hold their bike frames cheap whiles any speaks
That rode with us upon Winston’s Tweed Ride.

3 days till Winston's Tweed Ride!

& the tweed thing
is taking off Down Under

The Sydney Tweed Ride will be celebrating the Queen's Birthday on Sunday, 7 June 2009. Meet up at Sydney Town Hall, 483 George St., Sydney, NSW 2000, for the 8am - 9am start. Dapper or Ladylike Tweed Attire to be Worn. Prizes for Best Dressed Male, Female and Child (under 12)!

Booze, Bicycles, & Brits!

more details on
the Windy City's
Tweed Ride

I recently realized that there's already a Queen's Ride celebrating Elizabeth II's first visit to Chicago on 6 July 1959. So I decided to rechristen our august event the 1st Annual Winston's Tweed Ride! Still inspired by The London Fixed-Gear and Single-Speed Forum's Tweed Run and challenged by San Francisco's Thursday Tweed Ride, it remains a celebration of herringbone, hip flasks, and our noble steeds. Everyone is invited! If you have a Brit bike, do ride. If you don't, but enjoy tweedy elegance, do ride. If you do both, CERTAINLY DO RIDE!!!

2 May 2009 marks the 80th anniversary of Winston Churchill’s invention of his exquisitely dry martini: copious amounts of gin poured over crushed ice while he observed the vermouth from across the room. The route, designed by the Right Honorable Lee Diamond, is 10 civilized miles meandering past (and into) some of The Windy City's most infamous (and still open) speakeasies. Where else but in these lively establishments would the ladies & gents find more bracing refreshments and hearty victuals?

As with our fellow tweed runs, we hope to offer small, but significant, prizes for:

• Most Dapper Chap
• Most Snappy Lass
• Most Stylish Noble Steed
• Most Inspired Interpretation of Tweediness
• Best Mustache
• (open to both lads and inventive lasses)

The Queen's Tweed Ride

FIND UPDATE HERE!
Saturday, 2 May 2009

Although I'm shivering in anticipation of tonight's last middle finger of winter, my thoughts are certainly turned towards spring. And so, inspired by The London Fixed-Gear and Single-Speed Forum's Tweed Run and challenged by San Francisco's Thursday Tweed Ride, I would like to announce the 1st Annual Queen's Tweed Ride! This celebration of herringbone, hip flasks, and our noble steeds will be hosted by British Bicycles of Chicago, or the BBC.


The auspicious day will also mark the 40th anniversary of RMS Queen Elizabeth II's maiden voyage to the colonies. The route, which is still in planning, will take us past (and into) some of The Windy City's most infamous (and still open) speakeasies. Where else but in these lively establishments would the ladies & gents find more bracing refreshments and hearty victuals?

As with our fellow tweed runs, we hope to offer small, but significant, prizes for

Most Dapper Chap

Most Snappy Lass

Most Stylish Noble Steed

Most Inspired Interpretation of Tweediness

Best Mustache
(open to both lads and inventive lasses)

Style not speed...

elegance not exertion

The Gentleman Cyclists are small, far-flung but dedicated group that honors The Golden Age of British Touring by restoring lightweight bikes from the 1930s through the early '60s. You might think they're not all that different from the Penny-Farthing or Schwinn beach cruiser fanatics. But they are, indeed, a unique crowd.

What's the point of restoring a classic Raleigh or Phillips or Rudge if you're not going to tour with it? Why would you ruin the experience by stuffing yourself, sausage-like, into togs of Lycra or other horrid unnatural fibers. And why set a speed record when the countryside is so pleasant?

Twice a year, The Gentleman Cyclists answer these questions by gathering for a spirited roll down memory lane. In the Spring, they show up in Red Wing, MN for the 3peed Lake Pepin Tour. Then in the Fall, outside the Twin Cities, they stage an All British Cycling Event.

This is the first year I've done both with that which rolls, my '62 Raleigh Robin Hood Sports. In fact, after Lake Pepin I spent most of the summer working restoring it as well as putting together my British touring kit and togs. It's not as difficult as you might think. Frost River produces a nifty line of saddles bags and panniers.

The tours are Lycra-free events. Not a stitch of it is permitted ... well except for padded shorts that are conveniently hidden. But finding proper attire with that 1930s flare isn't all that difficult to find. I've always been attracted to its classic look: tweed touring caps, Norfolk jackets, and breeks.

I actually found this relatively cheap Norfolk-style jacket at Macy's just around the corner from my downtown office. Besides, it's more comfortable than you might think. Neither tour is a speed trial; just the opposite. British touring from that period is punctuated with many stops for food, water, tea and sometimes a pint at the local brewpub.

Traveling light is the order of the day. We simply carry a change of clothes and rain gear. We also enjoy pass storming and rough stuff touring. Scenic overlooks are an invitation for a brew-up of tea or a nap in the grass and are seldom missed.

Essentially, to get away for the weekend we pack a few things, mount up and head to the country. Most every farmstead has refreshments or a room to rent, every little village has a family-run restaurant. It’s a romantic image to be sure but firmly based in reality. It’s a reality that is fairly easy to reproduce given the right scenery, equipment and most important: attitude. We even have a sag-wagon!