Out of the REI and into the CCC

     In my last post, I neglected to shed very much light on a huge change in my life.  Back in April my wife Keri and I finally realized a long-held dream:  we unfurled our figurative sails and left the American Southwest for the Pacific Northwest.  We saved our money diligently for a year and were able to secure jobs at the Hillsboro REI, one of the four REI's in the greater Portland area.

     For four months we both worked at that REI, and although it wasn't necessarily bad, we weren't extremely happy with our new jobs.  For both of us, it was time to move on and stretch our wings and minds and grow a little.  The storm broke, and the same uncanny luck that carried us northward in the first place rewarded each of us with new jobs.  My wife got a job at Oregon Mountain Community, a high-end outdoor retailer focusing on skiing and back-country adventure.  She really likes her new job, and to be honest, the enormous bump in pay that came with her new job is unlike anything we've experienced.  We aren't making bank, but by our standards... we're making bank.

     I, on the other hand, got a job as a mechanic at the Community Cycling Center, a non-profit bike shop and organization that is a pillar of Portland's cycling community.  One day I wanted to go check out the shop, as I heard it is the place to go for used parts, so I ventured to the web site and noticed a "We're Hiring!" link, and something inside of my head clicked.  The Community Cycling Center is a bike shop unlike most bike shops out there.  The focus is on helping people with their bikes.  The focus is getting people on bikes as appropriately and effectively as possible.  The focus is not selling shit that people don't need.  A lot of the little burs that had been causing friction in my career at REI suddenly seemed they could--just maybe--be smoothed out.

     I applied.

     I interviewed.

     I got the call.

     As of now it's been a few days less than a month since my first day at the Community Cycling Center.  The transition has been overwhelming.  Although confident in my abilities and knowledge, there is always something unknown to know.  My usual creed of "I love old bikes" has shoved my foot into my mouth.  I have realized just how much I don't know about long-forgotten brands and styles.  Whereas before, old bikes were my specialty, I've found now my specialty might lay more with the modern stuff that doesn't come through the shop as much.  We'll see.

     Since I sold my Fuji I had been commuting on the mountain bike I inherited from my dad.  It got the job done but I was wanting to get a beater bike, something I didn't care about so I wasn't a nervous wreck when I took it on the train or locked it up somewhere.  My dad's Quintana Roo is valuable beyond words to me so it didn't make sense to take it everywhere with me, especially into a city as big as Portland.  Luckily, the answer lay in the GT Borrego frame I bought in Tucson over a year ago.

     It was time to build a bike.