Elsewhere I’ve documented some of Portland’s Bike Moves, in which members of the bikey community help one another move house, by bicycle. These moves have been over fairly short distances, and the amount of stuff has been modest. What, you ask, about going over seven miles, over the river and into the hills, with much of the household of a fifteen-year marriage? That was Saturday. Billed as “the mother of all bike moves,” I showed in spite of a cold, the showers with hail, and the audacity of moving sofas, a queen-sized bed, many heavy particleboard bookcases and much else about 130 blocks over the Willamette River by bicycle.
I didn’t take many pictures this time, because a reporter from The Oregonian was on hand and looked to be doing a thorough job, plus a fellow biker was putting it all on video, so I expect to be able to link to more complete evidence soon.
I did photograph my load, though — the first bike move for this regular production bicycle equipped with an Xtracycle and Stokemonkey instead of Xtravois. She handled well, but only because I was going quite slowly, at the pace of people carrying much more without Stokemonkey assistance. Those bookshelves were quite heavy, so the imbalance was severe, and the amount of flex over bumps was a little alarming, or should I say goofy.
The scale and route of this move drew more gaping mouths and giddy laughter and groping for cameras than previous moves, but what I noticed most were the people strapped alone into cars, looking out the glass at us, whose faces registered nothing at all. I felt pity.
Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?