I bought a bike the other night. I already have a bike (actually, if you count the one at my parents' house, I have three...), but what I have is a beach cruiser. Perfectly suitable for the flat terrain of Galveston and the coastal plains. Not suitable for Hill Country. But don't tell the poor souls who might find it on Craigslist in the next few days.
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According to their website, Ausin's Yellow Bike Project "is an all-volunteer initiative to put bicycles on the streets of Austin and Central Texas by operating community bike shops, teaching bike mechanics and maintenance, and acting as a local bike advocacy group."
Interesting, right?
Besides using volunteers to fix up bikes for public utilization, YBP also engages in special projects as the opportunities arise. What interested me most was the "Earn-A-Bike" program in which, in exchange for a certain number of volunteer hours logged and projects completed, participants earn the right (and knowledge) to build their own bike for free using the various used parts and frames found in the shop.
That's what I intended to sign up for on Friday night when I walked in. Nathan, one of the shop coordinators (highly skilled volunteers who run the shop's open hours and offer their knowledge to customers and volunteers), was very helpful in telling me more about the project, how things work around the shop, and what the Earn-A-Bike program actually entails.
I ended up deciding to buy an already-complete bike, after test-riding it around the neighborhood. What I walked away with was a ready-to-ride bicycle, a greater appreciation for the work YBP is doing, and plans for the future, when I'll be back at the shop, volunteering to help out and learning more about bikes in the process.
Yesterday afternoon, after acquiring a helmet, I rode my new bike down to Auditorium Shores, the site of Austin's 1st Annual Gypsy Picnic Trailer Food Festival. The ride alternated between terrifying (going downhill) and grueling (heading back to the top). Switching from a beach cruiser to a mountain/road bike takes some getting used to, and I was a little unsure in my riding, which means I wasn't very stable. But the result was even better than I imagined -- I saw an entirely new side of Austin.
Being on a bike forces you to slow down, and to take in the scenery. Like this view from a hilltop school:
Beautiful, right?
So let's talk about the Gypsy Picnic.
When I got there I was hot, sweaty, and in serious need of agua. So I fought through the crowds to the bar tent at the back, where lines were short, grabbed two bottles of water, and walked out of the festival to the river where I could hear the music, but crowds were minimal.
When I was ready, I went back into the festival area to brave the lines.
Oh, the lines.
The Gypsy Picnic website has a running twitter-er of tweets mentioning the picnic. Most are excellent responses. Some are calling it a massive failure.
If the event was a failure, it was only because of their success. No joke. The event itself was fantastic. The atmosphere was fun, the weather was wonderful, the food was great (or so I assume) -- there were just too many people there. I arrived around three, halfway through the festival, and already some vendors were selling out. The lines wound back from each trailer and tent and mingled together so that you were never entirely sure who was in line, or for which trailer.
I found the Izzoz Tacos trailer (which, I am told, will change my life), and got in line. But, as I mentioned, it was past three, and I hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch. I was hungry, and realized something: I can go to any of these place at any time. So I abandoned my post, and was walking out of the festival when I ran into a couple of friends. We walked back through the festival so they could understand just how crowded it was, and then we went to Home Slice.
Best pizza ever. Just saying.
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