Bikes, Beer and Books in Sevier Park

Though we’ve already penned our odes to fall and tights, and recapped our fun-filled summer, I left work this afternoon to find an overcast morning had brought forth one last glimpse of summer sun. So of course, Le Peug and I headed off to enjoy it. Our destination: Sevier Park, starting point for the  LGRAB Garden Party Ride, home of Sunnyside Manor and less than a mile from my house.

Le Peug, Sunnyside and some very green grass.

Happy Bastille Day

From me and Le Peug. We’re celebrating with some macarons, brioche, cheese and of course, wine.

Homemade brioche

Not quite perfect, but some of them had feet!

Separated at Birth?

As I’ve mentioned before, Vanderbilt’s campus is THE place to go to spot bikes in Nashville. (A hot second: the Belmont Blvd. bike rack.) Unfortunately Le Peug was not with me when I spotted this guy:

Le Peug's long-lost relative?

Nice to see another Peugeot on the road — or, well, on the rail, anyway.

Le Peug Lives

Despite the arrival of the Batavus, Pepe le Peug is alive and well. The Bat is fantastically comfortable (review TK) but le Peug is nimble, like no other bike I’ve ridden. We still have fun together, especially now that the nice guys at Halcyon spruced him up for me (there was a rack issue and a problem with the bolt on the seatpost — but now we’re good as new!). Here’s some photographic evidence, courtesy of Ms. Kristi and taken last weekend:

Beautiful day, beautiful bike!

My Posse Can Do

Right now I have three bikes. They’re all in my living room. And I love it. Check out my posse:

There be things that my posse can do.

Don’t they look ready for action? I love the way the flash caught the reflector on the Bat.

Another snap:

Not sure what’s up with the angle of the seat on the Dahon and the Batavus, but other than that, they look ready to ride into the sunset. Speaking of bikes in the living room, I can’t seem to leave the Bat outside. If anyone has any interior bike storage ideas, I’d love to hear them. Have thought about the Cycloc, but it’s expensive and I’m not sure how it would work for a step-through frame. Anyone tried it?

Song that inspired the title is after the jump.

Charting New Territory

I was also going to use the term “adventure” in the name of today’s post — I guess Dottie and I think alike! Whatever you want to call it, yesterday’s ride took me off my beaten path and allowed me to face a new challenge: Green Hills. Any Nashvillian knows that the traffic on Hillsboro Rd. anywhere south of Wedgewood is pretty heinous. It’s so bad that I take back roads when I drive. But there was no reason I couldn’t bike those same back roads — or at least that’s what I told myself when setting off after a happy hour near my work to attend an (excellent) reading at Davis-Kidd by author Mary Pat Kelly.

This is my, "why yes, I'm having my picture taken for no good reason as dozens of people trot by" face.

What’s in a Name?

After our first happy hour

In  my imagination, my French mixte was a girl. Her name would be Simone,* and she would be the perfect thing to ride to cafes to sip coffee, or to bars to drink gin martinis or sidecars while discussing feminist theory, boys, bikes, existentialism, travel, politics and our cats (what do you talk about at happy hour?). On the off chance the bike was more scientific-minded, she could be a Marie (Curie); or, if she had a more artistic temperament, Camille (Claudel).

Imagine my surprise when Le Peug showed up and was…a boy. We get along just fine, but I don’t have a name picked out! I’ve tossed around Baudelaire, Balzac, Napoleon (top of the list, but not perfect), Voltaire, Louis (too generic), Moliere (too lighthearted) even Charlemagne, but nothing feels quite right. So for the time being, he’s Le Peug (Puhzh). I’m thinking it will take a few more days to take his measure and figure out his personality. Any bright ideas? Leave them in the comments!

* A fascinating interview with de Beauvoir can be found here.

Ménage à Trois

I have a confession to make: I’m not sure one bike, even one as lovely as the Batavus, is enough for me. I used to think bikes were like men — you find the one for you, and that’s it (or so they say). Now I know that they are more like shoes, or maybe coats: there’s the right choice for every occasion. One day you’re feeling sporty; the next, you might want to haul groceries home. And what if someone comes to visit and needs to borrow a bike? It doesn’t help that they’re all so beautiful in different ways.

This is the long way of telling you that I’m cheating on the Batavus before he’s even made it home (such a vixen). But it wasn’t my fault! Had Pinkie not been taken from me, I promise I never even would have looked at another bike — or at least, not with my wallet in hand. However, among the many kind comments on the entry about her theft was one from Jon at Grinder Bikes, who offered to lend me something to ride until May. I clicked on over to his site and noticed he’d rebuilt many lovely bikes out in Denver. I’d fallen for a few vintage bikes during my bike search, but they were always too large for me. Maybe he had something suitable? Maybe he has a mixte, whispered the devil on my shoulder. So I asked the question.