I was alone, navigating my hard tail along the legendary Porcupine Rim Trail just east of Moab, when I began to think about the end of the world. I imagined traversing the rough landscape in an unfortunate, yet realistically speaking, not-to-distant future—a reality engulfed in desperation, aesthetic uncertainty, and a renewed sense of ingenuity. It was a reality certainly not characterized by automobiles, which had surely become obsolete almost immediately upon the collapse of civilization.

Unless we figure out a way for cars to run on loving kindness, it should be clear that they will not see us through the pending endgame of civilization. Given that bicycles were around before the automobile, it is not a stretch to say they will be around long after. If we can’t drive our way through the apocalypse, perhaps we can ride through it. Of all the different bicycles out there these days, the question of which bicycle will stand the test of end-times after the industrial production of parts ceases, seeing us through to a brighter, more resource responsible future, is above all, a fun question to explore.

But lets be real; someday, all of this will come crashing down. Never before have we faced, all at once, so many different scenarios upon which the demise of industrial civilization may play out. Imagining living through such a collapse, as many of us do from time to time, it is clear that our transition to a sane and truly sustainable world will be neither voluntary, nor easy. There has been quite a bit written about a “bug-out pack,” a pre-organized backpack full of apocalypse-ready survival gear that one might need if they have to leave suddenly. But when the car dies, and it will, what sort of bike will you ride out into this uncertain future?

Before we attempt to answer this question, as we build a better world, we must ask ourselves the ultimately more important question, can bicycles ever be truly be sustainable in the first place? I’m talking true sustainability here, not corporate “sustainability™.” A real-world understanding of sustainability, yet one that is often unarticulated, is based on the incredibly quaint notion of “forever.” And given the metals, the oil-based rubbers, the precise tools and machinery needed to build and maintain bicycles, not to mention the infrastructure it takes to facilitate all this, bicycles as they presently stand probably aren’t sustainable.

The good news, however, is that there are likely more high quality bicycle frames in existence today than there are people. Tires can be produced with actual rubber that does in fact grow on trees – or in them, rather. The millions of automobiles left to rust in the increasingly hot sun will be a treasure trove of spare parts, grease and oil. And there are plenty of tools out there to keep folks rolling for a long time to come.

Before I got too ahead of myself in preparing for end-times (or new beginnings…depending upon your perspective), I headed over to Revolution Bicycles to try their new coffee and talk apocalypse bikes. It was clear that many of the mechanics there had already though of this.

When I asked bike mechanic and co-manager Adam Cornette what his ideal apocalypse bike would look like, he had an answer for me immediately. “A rigid steel frame single-speed mountain bike with 26-inch wheels.”

“Twnenty-six-inch wheels?” I asked him of the standard mountain bike size wheel. I told him that when I imagined my perfect bike it would look more like a single-speed cyclo-cross bike, which has skinnier yet much taller wheels that are suitable for paved and off-road riding.

“You shouldn’t be riding anything too specific,” he said. “Twenty-six-inch wheels are the most common. When looking at any aspect of your bike after production of parts stops, everything should be as serviceable and replaceable as possible.”

“In a lot of ways,” Mr. Cornette elaborated, “this is exactly the mindset folks go though in bike touring. I mean, apocalypse or not, the question can be, what can you fix in a small auto shop in Bolivia?”

In terms of suspension, I didn’t even have to ask, as I saw the mechanic behind him overhauling a fork behind Cornette as we spoke. He poured out at least 100 milliliters of used oil out of the fork and into a tub. And here I thought bikes would never need an oil change. It takes up to two liters of oil to do a complete overhaul of your forks. A rigid fork would certainly be the way to go.

Mechanic and bicycle shop barista Jon Benson got an idea from someone in town who actually built their ideal apocalypse bike. “Surly makes a wide fork; he used that and actually built the bike with two rear wheels.”

“Why would you want to do that?” I asked, sipping an iced latte from a martini glass.

“If you have two rear wheels, that means you have two rear cassettes; one to replace the other when it wears out. You can make your gears last longer that way.”

Before I spoke to Mr. Benson, the consensus was that an apocalypse bike would be a single-speed. “Eventually, that would have to be the case.” CJ Constantopoulos, owner of Revolution Bicycles, piped in next to us. “But cables will last for a while, as long as you keep them lubed.”

It was then that I realized that, the ideal apocalypse bike would be one that evolved as existing parts became less and less available. CJ is a big fan of his Surly Big Dummy, fitted with a three-speed internal hub. “The internal gears are ideal because of how low maintenance they are.” The Big Dummy frame includes the built-in “xtracycle,” allowing the bike to carry up to 200 pounds of cargo, a feature that would no doubt be crucial in a post apocalypse world.

I finished my coffee and rolled on over to BiciMundo to talk to Elson Miles, who operates a bike shop out of his house. Mr. Miles, as most folks know, is sort of the grandfather of bicycles in Flagstaff. Walking into his bike yard, you’d think the world had already ended. Walkways lined with frames of all varieties, some complete bikes, some not; spare chain rings and wheels hung on the back fence, large tubs here and there, full of used forks, seats, handlebars, and other miscellaneous parts.

“All you have to do is look at third-world countries to see the future,” he said, commenting on a style of bike known as the “Africa bike.” Kona currently produces a version of this bike and actually donates them to communities in need. World Bicycle Relief (worldbicyclerelief.org) is an organization that “provide(s) access to independence and livelihood through The Power of Bicycles” and has distributed over 75,000 of these bikes throughout Africa. These bikes are sturdy city cruisers with steel belted tires, making them virtually puncture resistant, coater brakes, and internal three-speed hubs. They are also work bikes, usually accompanied by heavy-duty racks on the front and the back.

“But low-tech will be what survives,” said Miles. “No doubt tires can be made out of anything rubber…I don’t know,” he said looking around, “like maybe a garden hose or something. And when your brakes fail, you can always use the back of your shoe in an emergency,” he said smiling, demonstrating on some old cruiser. “We used to call that one the ‘Skuffy Skidmore Memorial Brake.’”

Back on the Porcupine Rim Trail, many folks I passed were having trouble: a bent disc brake rotor, a broken derailleur, a snapped chain, and another broken derailleur. If any of these folks were going to ride through the pending crash of civilization, they’d likely have to get rid of those gears, and eventually those brakes too.

Last year, I made my own studded bicycle tires to keep me rolling through the snow and ice. I laughed the first time I had them on, doing figure eights atop a sheet of ice in the ally behind the Orpheum. I remember really ripping through turns on the way home, testing my luck, actually trying to slip. Though the Wine Loft fostered this sense of confidence more than the quality of my own arts and crafts, I was duly impressed.

Like riding with a trailer for the first time, studded tires clearly opened new doors. While a trailer obviously allows cyclists to do more, the studded tires mean more days on the saddle. All winter long, people asked me about the tires.

Sure, many of the fine bicycle establishments in town sell studded bicycle tires of all shapes and varieties. I know Revolution Bicycles can’t even keep them in stock. And for those cyclists who can afford the $60 (and up) per tire, those not turned on by creating their own solutions, and particularly those not attracted to arts and crafts, maybe buying these tires is a damn good option.

It is safe to assume, however, that folks who are crazy enough to want to ride their bike in the snow and ice throughout the winter probably ride their bike a lot already. And if that’s the case, there is a good chance that they have some old or spare tires and punctured tubes laying around somewhere at home. If truth follows my logic, there are a lot of folks out there who can make their own studded tires for under 10 bucks.

Here is what you’ll need.

1. Two old tubes, two old tires (it’s okay if they have punctures).
2. One new tube
3. Two boxes of 3/8” to 1/4” inch sheet metal screws
4. Industrial grade silicone epoxy
5. A attitude somewhere between Martha Stewart, MacGyver, and Penny Rimbaud

Step 1
On the outside of each tire, mark each rubber tread knob you wish to be studded. This is really just to make sure you have enough screws to do the kind of job you want. Remember that you really just need the studs there when you’re breaking and turning, so don’t over do it. I used 100 screws for each tire and spread them out along the outer parts of the tire.

Step 2
From the inside, drill sheet metal screws into each tread knob you marked. By pinching with your thumb and index finger on the outside and inside of the tire, you can ensure you’re drilling in the right place. If you don’t screw directly into your mark, it’s not a big deal. (Why sheet metal screws? Last year, I used sheet metal screws on one tire and wood screws on the other. The woodscrews rusted and wore down far quicker than the sheet metal ones. Some will recommend concrete screws, though strong, they are too heavy, too expensive, and often too big).

As you are doing this, make sure that the screws don’t stick out too much. This means that you will not necessarily screw them in all the way from the inside. Depending on the kind of clearance you have, this is simply to avoid the screws scraping up the inside of your frame when you put the wheel back on.

Step 3
After you have all your screws in the way you want them, take your epoxy and dot the heads of each screw. And feel free to coat around the threaded part of the screw if they are not screwed in all the way.

Step 4
Before the epoxy dries completely, take an old tube and slice it open, long ways, all the way around. Line the inside of your tire with the old tube. The tube will be unnecessarily wide for this job, so feel free to trim it a bit. You can also use more of the epoxy to get the tube to stick to the inside of your tire. This “liner” tube is to provide another layer of protection against the possibility of a screw head puncturing your new tube.

Step 5
Insert a new tube and slap the tire on your wheel. This might require gloves, as you will not be used to doing this with sharp screws poking your hands. If you find that the screws are nicking the inside of your frame, you can simply file them down with a heavy duty file.

If you can perform this modification with an extra set of wheels, it will be much easier for you to simply swap wheels rather than change the tire every time the weather gets bad. You can ride with these wheels on all season, but just know that when the pavement is dry, studded tires will slow you down significantly.

Doing things like making your own studded snow tires helps to foster a mindset whereby cyclists question the weather less and question themselves more. Slowly but surely winter cyclists will stop looking at the sky and wondering if today it might be a better idea to ride the bus or drive. Instead the real question becomes, what can I do to stay on the bike?

We watched our cars sit in the driveway. My small silver one hardly recognizable under mounds of snow and ice; the antenna poking through like a periscope under winter’s blanket. And, when winter gave way to spring, we noticed that Joe’s green one was literally becoming part of the local eco-system, with bees living in the tailpipe, and something growing out of the wheel well. His battery had been dead for at least two years at that point. I killed my battery early that winter when I lost my phone charger and needed to use the juice from the car.

It had been years since either of us drove a car regularly. After all, living in Flagstaff, we recognize that we are privileged enough to live in a city where the air is clean, and nearly everything we need to live can be found within a 5-mile radius. Fed up with dropping over $100 every month for insurance and even more to keep it registered, not to mention the costs of oil changes and the occasional part replaced, just to let it sit in the driveway, I eventually sold my silver one. Joe cleared out the cobwebs and gave his green one away.

We ride our bikes year-round in Flagstaff, and have seen many winters come and go from the view behind our handlebars. When I meet someone that hasn’t taken the time to relate to this kind of lifestyle, I’m always confronted with the same questions. In no particular order, here are my answers: two words—bike trailer. There are shuttles, buses, and trains that will take you anywhere you want. Primarily long underwear, waterproof pant covers, a good pair of gloves, and a facemask. It helps to know that during the windy season, the wind blows hardest during the afternoon. A good tarp. Your body warms up quickly, and you’d be surprised to feel how badass you actually are. Studded snow tires (you can even make them yourself). No, I don’t wear spandex. I avoid riding on Milton if I can. Snot washes right off…

I’ve read many articles over the years that make various arguments to people about why they should ride a bike, however, none of the typical reasons keep me in the saddle.

Indeed, while typical benefits to riding, like feeling healthy and not trashing the environment, might get people to get on a bike, it doesn’t keep them there. Generally speaking, people don’t like to exercise. People like to play volleyball, go on hikes, and ride bikes, but exercising? No thanks. As soon as it is exercise, the bike becomes something folks feel like they should do, rather than want to do. By thinking of a bike as exercise, there is a built in guilt factor that develops, having people say, for example, “oh, I know, I should ride my bike more.” The beauty of commuting everywhere by bike is you never have to think about getting exercise, instead you’re just getting to work, or going to the grocery. Indeed, it is the exercise component that is built into the bike, not the guilt.

And I think most people know that the ride-a-bike-to-save-the-world ploy is largely bullsh*t. As writer and independent scholar Kirkpatrick Sale wrote a few years back when “going green” became such a fashion statement, rather than a political one, “The whole individualist what-you-can-do-to-save-the-earth guilt trip is a myth. We, as individuals, are not creating the crises, and we can’t solve them. Take our crazy energy consumption. For the past 15 years the story has been the same every year: individual consumption – residential, by private car, and so on – is never more than about a quarter of all consumption; the vast majority is commercial, industrial, corporate, by agribusiness and government. So, even if we all took up cycling and wood stoves it would have a negligible impact on energy use, global warming and atmospheric pollution.”

Ride a bike because it is healthy, and empowering. Ride a bike because it doesn’t require destructive infrastructure, foreign resources, labor, and wars. Ride because being on one means you are never stuck in traffic and cops don’t really pay attention to you.

Sale continues, “I mean, sure, go ahead and live a responsible environmental life; recycle, compost, ride a push-bike; but do it because it is the right, moral thing to do–not because it’s going to save the planet.”

Never in these articles do I see reflections explaining the reasons why I ride. I ride because it makes me feel more honest, more alive, and more, well, human. But it’s more than that. When the weather is at it’s worst; when I’m pedaling with everything I’ve got against biting Northern Arizona winds, battling the sting of freezing rain—eyes squinting, centered on the road ahead—I do not get jealous of drivers, cozy and dry, atop heated seats. Instead, through an intimate connection with my own mobility, I’m in my own world, reflecting on thousands upon thousands of years of human experience.

I think of a long history shaped around disease, famine, and imperial violence as well as times of great abundance. The rhythm of the crank becomes a drum and the trance is my tap into the collective unconscious of my ancestors. It is here that I contemplate the weight of millennia, of migration, of exodus, where the reality of their resilience feels more like memory than a sense of unity.

I remember navigating thrashing waters with wind-burned faces, fleeing violence under cover of dark over vast prairies, negotiating the sharp rock of deep canyons; images of calloused hands carrying babies across rivers, setting out in the desert with only a vague notion of where the next water source would be. I remember being fully exposed for great lengths of time to every natural element imaginable.

And I know that the same wind moves through me; that when my heart beats ferociously, it is their blood flowing through my veins.

So, yeah, I have no problem riding to Safeway for food; in fact, when motorists who are angry, yelling, honking, and crashing into each other but still look at me like I’m the one from another planet, I actually feel quite privileged to be able to get around town so efficiently on my own steam.

Granted, not everyone can commute everywhere by bicycle. Not only are regular cyclists privileged to live in a city like Flagstaff, but we’re able bodied, don’t have children, and we don’t have jobs that require us to haul items like large tools. The truth is, many people, especially college-aged students, share many of these privileges but still choose to sit idle in traffic and drive, even when they know many destinations can be reached quicker by bicycle.

I do not blame folks who do not ride because they’re scared of cars. However, while automobiles kill a little over 700 cyclists a year, and an average of one or two per year in Flagstaff, it doesn’t compare to between 30 and 40 thousand people who are killed by automobiles every year. Whether you drive, or walk, or ride, the fear of a careless automobile slamming into us is a fear we all share.

When you ride a bike, being passed by cars going 40 or 50 miles an hour, the violence that surrounds every detail of car culture becomes fully illuminated. “People aren’t connected to their own violence,” says Joe. “When nuts hit the bolts, we’re all trying to stay out of the way of cars.” While some victims of violence are fetishized, such as the 9/11 victims, we readily accept deaths when they are victims of more systemic forms of violence, such as those killed by environmental racism, preventable diseases, or car culture. Joe answered, “if they invented a car that ran on, I don’t know, flowers, I’d still ride a bike because of the violent, face-paced, “get out of my way” attitude that car culture promotes. Plus it’s way more fun. We’ve accepted the costs of this mode of transportation.”

Like any meaningful societal change, recognizing violent, oppressive systems can only, and appropriately be answered by creating workable alternatives. And the bike was not only invented before the automobile, but it will be around for much longer. Through car culture’s disconnection with violence, the driver is also elevated beyond a human scale.

A driver might cringe when the automobile that they’re controlling runs over a rabbit or a raccoon, but after a few years on a bike, I find my heart skipping a beat when I narrowly miss lizards or spiders. Joe confirms this growing pedal-powered journey away from destructive systems. “When I go to the grocery store, more and more I think, why am I not growing my own food?”

I wrote this article on Flagstaff’s newest bike shop for the June issue of The Noise. Then we had to look for a sponsor to make the bike column go. When I found one, we were excited. This article never ran, however, because the last half of the peice sounds like a giant advertisement for Revolution Bicycles. I’m a big fan of the shop, so I don’t mind posting this here.
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Last year, with the greatly informed help of Elson Miles from Bici-Mundo, I rebuilt an old road bike for a good friend. It was great practice for me because I really wanted to learn. My next build would be for me.

After obtaining a steel track frame toward the end of last year on Craigslist, I slowly began picking out components online. When the snow pilled up, I sloshed through town on homemade studded snow tires, arriving at home, eagerly awaiting small packages. Each box seemed to bring me closer to spring.

Pedals, crank, bottom bracket, saddle, handlebars, a stem…I removed each item from it’s packaging and lined them up on floor of my room: yet to be greased, yet to be threaded. Some small parts, a Surly cog and Soma lock ring, I purchased at the counter of Absolute Bikes. I read reviews, imagining if spring would be smoother rolling on Mavic or Velocity wheels, learning the difference between Tange and sealed bearing-headsets, then wondering why such small pieces of metal can cost so much money.

Flagstaff resident Ray Walker convinced me that a good sealed-bearing headset would be less hassle in the long run compared to the Tange-style, which requires a lot of routine maintenance on exposed bearings. A headset is the set of components that creates the smoothly rotatable interface between your frame and fork. It’s a set of bearings that essentially allows you to steer your bike. It arrives in a very small box, but it is a very important piece.

The only problem is that the crown race of my fork, a little cone-shapped nubby that sits at the base of the fork tube was machined to fit a Japanese Industrial Standard, or JIS, 27mm headset, while the sealed bearing headset I wanted fit a slimmer, and more common, 26.4 standard.

Without going into more geeky bike tech stuff, I couldn’t find any bike shop in town that had the tool necessary to perform this modification. I don’t particularly blame them. The Crown Race Cutting Tool made by Park Tools costs close to 350 bucks and it isn’t used very often. C.J. Constantopoulos, owner of Revolution Bicycles, which just opened officially in mid-May, said a few weeks before he was officially open that he was ordering tools, and this cutting tool seemed like a good one to have.

“Really?” I asked. “350 bucks?”
“A good tool is a good investment.” He said, filling out the order information online. I told him, gratefully, that he would be the only shop in town that has it, that I’d tell everyone I know. Done and done.

So, there started my love affair with Flagstaff’s newest bike shop. Some undoubtedly suppose that Flagstaff needs another bike shop like it needs another women’s boutique downtown. After all I can think of 6 other shops off the top of my head. Besides the casual acquisition of rare cutting tools, there is much about this shop that sets it apart from others in town. For one, it specializes in used bikes. And lets face it, there are a lot of great bikes out there that just need a little TLC.

“I had worked as a mechanic in many bike shops in the past and people would always come in and ask, ‘hey, do you guys sell used bikes?’” The only other place in town he could point them to was Bici-Mundo, or a pawnshop.

He also wanted to run Revolution Bicycles as a community space where people can learn to fix their own bikes, by facilitating workshops—like the “Emergency Mountain Bike Repair” workshop he organized in April—as well as giving the community access to shop tools and knowledge. For $15 an hour, community members can have access to a work stand, tools, they can also ask questions and get their work looked over.

In the fall Revolution Bicycles is partnering with Northern Arizona University Outdoors to facilitate Bicycle Maintenance 101, a course open to the community of Flagstaff as well as to NAU students. For students, the course will be good for one academic credit hour, and for community members, the course will cost as much as a one credit class at the University. Bicycle Maintenance 101 will include 25 hours of class time, a course book, and massive discounts on Park Tools bicycle maintenance tool set.

“By the end of the course, [students] should be able to do all basic maintenance stuff, essentially everything a bicycle mechanic would need to know to get a job.” C.J. said he is hoping to offer Bicycle Maintenance 202, an advanced mechanics class that will get into wheel building, fork overhaul, face-chasing, and more.

This, of course, sounds an awful lot like a bike co-op. There are bike co-ops in Phoenix and Tucson, and this was the initial idea for Revolution. After becoming a little disillusioned with the lengthy and complex process of forming a co-op, however, C.J. decided to run Revolution as “a co-op style shop with the support of retail.”

Revolution Bicycles is a dealer for new Jamis and Voodoo bicycles of all varieties. He also has the tools to service Chris King and Cane Creek headsets. But it’s the used bikes that always catch my eye. Beautiful road and single speed bicycles from the 80’s line the racks, cruisers going back 5 decades, and tandem bikes that look more fun than playing mad-libs with strangers.

CJ is also helping to keep NAU’s Yellow Bike Program rolling, by giving them an instructional checklist for routine maintenance. He is also helping with some of the service and will be supplying parts through his shop. He will also soon be working with Flagstaff Shelter Services to fix up the bikes they lone out to employed residents.

The one thing that C.J. really wanted to highlight in our interview is a feature on the shop’s website that allows anybody in town to report a missing, stolen, or, in much happier cases, found bicycles. The database of stolen bikes or components will also help him when he comes across a suspicious bicycle. The website is also more user-friendly than dealing with the police every time a serial number looks modified or components don’t quite fit. Go to flagbikerev.com, and click on “reports.”

C.J. showed me how to use a few tools I had never used before, like a chain whip and a lockring wrench. I watched and took notes, much like I did last year when Elson Miles helped me fix up that old road bike. My first inkling, after realizing I would need these tools was to buy them, but that notion quickly passed when I saw them hanging neatly at the community workspace. Now that I know how to use them, I’ll just come here.

Come celebrate the grand opening of Revolution Bicycles during First Friday events in Flagstaff on August 6th, beginning at 5 PM. Revolution will be hosting a party in the parking lot, with beer and tunes, featuring the Ugly Stick Bruisers, Annie Jump Can, and others. Many varieties of bicycle-related artwork will adorn the walls of the shop, including photography, paintings, jewelry, and possibly even some graffiti art. C.J. said the party will last until the beer is gone and the bands are finished.

8am: The ride from my house to campus is one that I have timed down to the minute. I approached a three-way stop sign in my neighborhood, where I go straight. I saw the officer parked near the sign, so I slowed down as I approached the stop sign, and looked around several times (I do this regardless if there is a police officer there, I just made a point to exaggerate my motions).

There was nobody around in any direction, so I rolled through the stop sign. Keep in mind, also, that it snowed a few inches last night and the roads were really icy. Many automobiles roll stop signs in these conditions for fear of skidding, and it is often a suitable explanation.

Anyway, he pulled me over. I was not cited, which I suppose was pretty cool of him considering all the shenanigans in this town as of late. He asked for my ID which I didn’t have to give him because you don’t need to carry a license to ride a bike. But I gave it to him anyway, and he ran it to see if I warrants…etc.

He said I have to obey all the same laws that cars to. He said I have to come to a complete stop.

I said I didn’t come to a complete stop, but I did slow way down; I looked around and proceeded to slowly roll the stop sign because it was clear to me that there was nobody coming from any direction, and the roads are icy. Seriously, the officer and I were the only ones on the road.

He said that I did the same thing yesterday. I didn’t respond to how creepy that sounded (am I being watched? Or did he just happen to be on the lookout and noticed me?).

I was a little snarky with him because I was already late and I thought it was really stupid to be pulled over…I asked him, sarcastically, if he was having a slow morning.

I asked him if he was familiar with the “Idaho-stop” bill Arizona is reintroducing this year. Many states are introducing this bill and it’s been in the books in Idaho for over 20 years. The law would allow cyclists to treat stop signs as yield signs. He never heard of it.

The truth is, I said, there are a lot of laws that make sense for cars, but are ridiculous for bicyclists. And coming to a complete stop at a stop sign, loosing all your momentum, when it is clear that there is nobody around, is one of those ridiculous rules.

He asked me if it would be okay if cars started rolling stop signs. (They do, especially in icy conditions, but I didn’t say that). I said, of course not. But a bicycle is different. I told him that bicyclists have a much wider field of vision. I can slow down and see everything around me much easier than someone in a car. I’m not suicidal. I’m not saying that cyclists should be able to blow stop signs at full speed, but the rules of the road were not created with bicyclists in mind. He said okay, and let me go.

Here is a great video explaining the Idaho stop, and the nature of riding a bicycle v. driving a car.

Bicycles, Rolling Stops, and the Idaho Stop from Spencer Boomhower on Vimeo.