These latest photos come to us from Maui! Leslie took her brand new Co-Motion (with wheels from Sugar) on a delightful tour in Maui–she looks like she’s had some fun. Jealous. Ridiculously jealous.

Leslie’s wheels: Archetype hoops, Chris King Classic hubs, Sapim CX Ray spokes and assembled with the magic hands of Jude.  Ok that wasn’t modest but sometimes I pretend I’m magic.

I’m going to get right to it: I like chocolate. A lot. Almost as much as I like bikes. And while I was devouring Theo’s sea salt dark bar today (yum!) I noticed an inspiring little infographic about the power of bikes in rural Africa. My favorite stat: a bicycle increases an individual’s carrying capacity by five times. Five times!  (They’ll need some good wheels for that!)

Right now, it’s just too rainy and like a good Portlander I have at least five different rain jackets.  Each rain jacket matches a certain type of drop:  The pink one is for constant mist days, the yellow one is for big, wet drop days, the orange one is for sporadic rain fall of all drop sizes, the dark blue one is for riding through sporadic mists, and the light blue one is the one I wear when there’s less than a 30% chance of rain–that’s a sunny day for Portland.

It rains a lot.

You would think that choosing to live in this delicious climate that I might adapt.  I’m stubborn.  This time of year it can take me a whole hour to choose the appropriate jacket and work up the courage to suit up and willingly ride 40 miles in the rain.

Misery loves company, however.  This week I was lucky enough to ride with my cross team:  Ladies Auxiliary, and JVA.  There’s nothing like starting the ride with a cup of coffee and ending with a glass of beer.  Suddenly the size of the rain drops becomes inconsequential.

More complaining to come.

Photo thanks to Kate Walker.  I’m in my light blue rain jacket.

It had been a long time dream of mine to visit the habitable continents of the world and to visit at least 7 seas.  As it was, both of these dreams were on the brink of becoming a reality–my 6th continent and 7th sea.   I remember I pedaled all day into a raging headwind the entire time questioning my reasons for being on the road but, as I crested the final hill I caught sight of the bright blue Tasman Ocean.  While I can’t remember all the details of this trip I do remember vividly feeling the silent sense of accomplishment.

The Tasman Ocean

The story doesn’t end here.  I haven’t even gotten to the coffee yet and you can see there’s more writing below.

I spent the day riding spiritedly along the Tasman stopping at different beaches along the way reveling in the joy of seeing my own dreams into reality.  I’m also a sand collector so I had to collect a small sample for my collection.  But alas, the sun was setting and I needed to start looking for a place to pitch my tent.  I decided that it would be most fitting to spend the night camping on the beach.  I was enchanted by the beauty surrounding me and cooked my dinner as the sun was setting and the waves were lapping on the shores in a timely manner.  It was truly a beautiful moment.  I’m sure many of you have had your own equally poignant moments.

The story still doesn’t end here.

My night took a turn for the worst when a camper van showed up on the same beach and parked feet away from my tent.  Our idea of a great evening was wildly different.   I wanted my peaceful perfect moment and they wanted to party with loud music until the early morning hours.  My tent vibrated and pulsed to the loud bass in the music.  I wasn’t scared or annoyed just sad that I had, over the course of many years of travelling, made it to this moment and the only trophy to be had was a miserable night sleep.

The story continues.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep well.  Horrible, in fact.  I woke at first light, packed up my gear, and headed back to a small town that was several miles back.  I remembered seeing a coffee shop at the top of a hill.  Luckily for me,  in New Zealand almost every coffee shop has great coffee and I was certainly prepared to enjoy a delicious cup and some breakfast.

When I got to the coffee shop I was greeted by the worst sign that made me swear off hippies, at least for the morning.  The sign read as follows: “Sometimes we’re open, sometimes we’re not.  Sometimes we open on time and and sometimes we don’t.  Thanks for coming.”  I literally beat my head against the window of the shop.  All through the night I had clung to the thought of a cup of coffee and now this tiny pleasure was going to be denied me. The next closest coffee shop was several kilometers and several hills back.   Hungry, baffled, and severely under caffeinated I stood there trying to figure out what to do and yes, maybe I was even fighting back a tear or two.  I was a self pitying mess.

Don’t worry, the coffee is coming.

My fate changed moments later.  Two people came up to me after reading the sign for themselves.  An older woman and man who, at the time, I took to be a married couple.  They introduced themselves as Father such and such and Sister such and such.  In the back of my mind I was thinking Well this is going to be annoying.  The last thing I want to do is talk politely to people and especially a Father and Sister in vacation clothing…  We lamented a moment or two about the coffee shop and I believe I shared my general frustration from the evening before and this glorious moment in my life that was turning out to be one of the worst nights I’ve ever spent on the road.  They bobbed their heads politely and then they did what has happened to me a million times travelling but I’ve never appreciated as much as in that moment:  they insisted I come to the vacation house of the church and enjoy breakfast with them.  Eureka!

In this moment I was not going to decline.  I followed them back to their house on my bike where two other Sisters were already beginning breakfast.  I was offered a shower and a place to do some laundry and the best meal ever.  While they were enjoying a modest breakfast of toast and coffee they prepared a special breakfast of eggs, tomatoes, bacon, and an endless stream of coffee for me.  I have never felt so grateful.  In exchange I shared with them stories from my travels and then the disappointing details from the night before.  Better than the coffee, the shower, the laundry, and the amazing breakfast was this philosophy that the Father  shared with me which I have carried with me every day since…when something bad happens, something great is around the corner too.  I’ve tested this philosophy since that day and whether it’s actually true or not, doesn’t matter.  It always seems to rescue me from despairing in the moment and it opens a curiosity about the road ahead.

A Father, two Sisters, and one clean and grateful cyclist

As it turns out I left their house that morning full and squeaky clean.  They had  treated me like a hero–though very undeserving.   Moments later (about 2km later)  on the road I would get to test this new perspective for the first time when I met a fellow cyclist who happened to be from Oregon also.  For days we traveled together battling head winds, torrential down pours, and creating a friendship that transcended the experience from the night before.

Two Oregonians

And that’s the end of my story.  As I get older the specific memories of my trips fade into the back ground making room for new memories but, this cup of coffee was genuinely outstanding.

I wasn’t counting on commiserating with anyone, building friendships or, for that matter, other crazies who wanted to ride farther and climb higher.  Cheers to these brilliant spirited women and an iPhone to capture it.

Top of Skyline after climbing 53rd ave, descending the backside and then climbing Old Germantown.  We’re still smiling (and freezing) Photo thanks to Megan Schubel.

As a wee kid I remember putting his shoes on–often.  Size 11 Timberland shoes (before Timberland was “Cool”).  The outsides were leather and the insides were a dark orange.  They had the appearance of loafers with only three crosses of the leather laces but had a gum tread that suggested these shoes could take you any where.  My dad wore these shoes for years–well not the same ones.

When it was time for regime change, a new pair of the exact same shoe would appear.  Countless times I watched the new shoes get worn and stretched and slowly begin their march to a dilapidated state.  It almost happened before my very eyes but it always amazed me when the new pair came and they sat next to the old pair–where had the time gone?  The old pair would then be demoted to “Saturday work shoes” and the new ones would take over where the old ones had left off.  To this day, this is how my dad wears his shoes.

I’m not like my dad…well that’s a lie.

Today as I brought home my new black, oiled, Dansko clogs and set them down next to my old ones I couldn’t help but notice the similarity.  For years I wear the same shoes, have them repaired and continue to wear them until hammering in the staples proves futile.  Then I make the special journey for new shoes and though  given the choice to do something different, I go back and select the exact same pair of shoes.  The old shoes get relegated to garden shoes and the new ones are the ones I wear every day to work… just like my dad.

My list:

1. Fall in love with cycling…again.  Simple, right?

2. Do one comedy stand up show (inspired by “I’m Leaving You”.  Look it up.  It’s funny). 

I’ll address the first because it’s the most serious.  Literally.

It’s not that I’ve fallen out of love but over the course of the past few years I’ve had the pleasure of living my dreams—becoming a wheel builder, opening a shop that we hope inspires and educates, and learning everything there is to know about wheels and wheel design.  In fact, I’ve attacked this mercilessly.  If there is something to learn about wheels, I want to carefully consider it, understand it, mull it over, second guess it, take it to my engineer friend, test it myself, and then decide how it will fit into the repertoire of information I already have–All for the love of riding.

In the course of all this busyness I’ve managed to collect a fair share of dust on my bikes—yes I’m aware of the irony.  I started the business because I love riding and exploring and it’s the part of my life for which I spare the least amount of time.  But you can see from the paragraph above, I’ve been busy.

I should tell you, though, that I also love learning.  I absolutely love it.  My visit to Reynolds, and in particular spending time with Paul Lew, along with the time I spend learning with David Browning (an engineer with Altman Browning), and learning from poetic wheelbuilders like Ric Hjertberg is invaluable and well worth the concessions I’ve made. Where I am today with my understanding of the wheel is certainly not because I was born knowing.  But, I digress.

Despite my love of learning I have given up my love of riding–almost a complete trade.  While I love learning about aerodynamics, metal fabrication and construction these things have come at the cost of my love for the very thing that pricked my curiosity.  So this year I am going to defy the laws of small business ownership and throw myself mercilessly at my bicycle(s).  You’re likely to see me working with Russell Cree at Upper Echelon, riding Saltzman on a rainy Monday morning, doing a Velo Dirt ride or you might even see me racing cross this year…the possibilities are endless and that’s just what I like about this years resolution.

I encourage the same for you.  Come to talk to us about wheels, about getting faster, about building stronger wheels, about aerodynamics, or about spoke construction and tension.  We love that—we’ve dedicated our professional careers to these very matters.  But we hope you’ll also come and talk to us about what you love about riding your bike and we hope that it continues to bring you joy.

And to briefly address the second resolution:  It’s going to be a complete disaster but at least I’ll be laughing.

We simply wish you the best New Year and the most gratifying year of riding.  We’ll see you when you stop into our shop or out on the road…

It’s absolutely unfair if you think that I’ve been running this shop all by my lonesome for the last few years.  The truth is, I’ve had help.  Like any small business owner we rely on ourselves as the biggest asset and then, if we’re so lucky, our partner.  I’ve been so lucky to have a partner, Alex, who is willing to do a lot of behind the scenes happenings like becoming a master book keeper, box breaker downer, and emergency wheel lacer.  Like I said, I’m lucky.

But I’m also lucky to have two awesome employees co-workers who have diligently helped make this business shine and it’s about high time you met them.

Meet Dan.  He’s the reason the shop looks sparkly clean and I have my sanity.  Dan also bundles spokes for our team of builders so that we can reduce the time it takes to lace wheels.  Dan loves talking about hair bands and rock n’ roll.  He’s been working with us since July of 2011.

Meet Jason, “First lieutenant” and stellar wheel builder.  Jason is a perfectionist which is almost required when it comes to wheel building.  Jason has been a part of our studio since July 2011.

D. Farnsworth,

Eugene, OR

Last week this was posted on Bikeportland.org.  It was a story about a woman whose awesome wheels were stolen from her bike.  This set an awesome chain of events into action.  The head of marketing from this company read the post and decided to “Get the wheel in motion” by donating awesome parts.  He contacted this little wheel company to build the wheels and together we got this company to donate  tires.  At the end of the day this awesome thing happened and we all got a commuter rolling again:

Every Wednesday morning, throughout the summer, the Community Cycling Center brings a group of youngins through the studio to learn about what I do as a wheel builder.  Every week the questions are different and every week I hope as they leave my studio that they are inspired to follow their dreams.

This week, I got a note of appreciation from a parent.  It meant a lot to me and I’d like to share it with you here:

My daughter came by your place today with her community cycling ctr camp group, and she hasn’t stopped talking about the visit. She even volunteered to patch my flat tonight. Just wanted to thank you for playing such an important role in inspiring future bike girls!

I was insanely inspired by a female plumber named Denise and throughout the 3rd grade I wanted to be a plumber.  Today my admiration is sprinkled throughout the industry and engineers, in general, are the “Denise” of today.  My hope is to always remain inspired to learn, to grow, to extend myself beyond what I’ve thought was possible.

Any chance we have to inspire the next generation of cyclists, mechanics, inventors and innovators we take it with gratitude.

But very few wheel builders have noted the “Wheel builders eye” which looks very much like “Drunken eye”.   This phenomenon develops in a wheel builder from looking at the caliper on the truing stand hitting the rim telling where the wheel is out of alignment.  The gap is so small (.1-.3mm) that one squints an eye much the way a drunk would inspect the bottom of a bottle to verify that there wasn’t any booze left.

So, this “Trophy” is fine and wonderful except for the severe wrinkling of only one eye.  It’s a labor of love, that’s all that one can say.  It’s the dedication and love of wheel builders the world over that are willing to make the daily sacrifice for the ride. Love your wheel builder.  They’re going to look funny.

Below is a picture of a drunk after after 10,000 look-sees into the bottom of a bottle and a wheel builder after 10,000 wheels.   One should note the uncanny similarities.  These drawings are based on actual human beings.  No wheel builder (or drunk) was hurt in the process.

1.  curiosity about the performance of a hand-built bicycle wheel wasn’t available for comparisson.  how does a chris king hub perform?  what about an ultegra hub?  what’s the difference between bladed spokes and butted spokes?  we felt that we could conceptually explain things but nothing is as good as the tangible experience.

2.  the majority of the work we do is in matching riders to their ‘perfect ride’.  we don’t just want to sell wheels to you, we want to work with you and get the right kind of spokes, the right number of spokes, the right hubs, and the correct rims.  we also want them to be pretty to match the design of your bike and your aesthetic vision.

while a few have had the opportunity to make use of this program we are officially announcing the ‘brian palmer tasting room‘ open.  on the link provided you’ll find a full ‘tasting menu’.  be curious and come in to demo a new set of wheels.

currently, the wheels that you’ll find cater to road, cyclocross, and touring.  options will soon be available for 29′er and 26″ mountain.

which leads us to this question:  who is brian palmer?  brian palmer is a self-proclaimed ‘wheel-a-holic’ and blogger extraordinaire.  based in scotland, brian writes entries that verge on literature.  insanely witty and humble in approach.  his ideal wheel set is the crown jewel of our tasting room and lovingly named ‘the brian palmer.  visit his blog here.

So let’s summarize the plan:  We get boxes (and plastic shipping materials) because we get things in the mail.  The boxes we can’t re-use we recycle or give to another small company, PLYWERK, that ships out their product to customers all over the world!!

Here’s what the owner of PLYWERK, Kjell Van Zoen,  had to say about our partnership:  ”We are always extremely grateful when any business is willing to take time out of their busy schedule to help conserve and reuse materials. Our ability to reuse packing materials is entirely dependent on businesses like Sugar Wheel Works. It’s awesome to think that we have built a mini symbiotic relationship to reduce waste and prevent unnecessary overproduction. Hopefully our relationship will be an example for other businesses to follow.”

+=

While we won’t always be perfect, we come in every day with a creative and willing attitude towards sustainability.  Ideas and suggestions are always welcomed!  Check out our partner, PLYWERK, here.

Today’s tool that I’d like to pay homage to isn’t directly related to wheel building but it has been with me from the very first thought about building, business, and has been with me on countless miles of open road.  I have replaced parts of this tool over and over and through the years have not managed to lose it.  It is my pen. My Fisher Space pen.

The fact that I haven’t lost this pen like I lose keys, wallets, pendants, gloves, shoe laces, dinner plates and countless other ordinary, everyday items dates back to when I was a child and my dad gave me my first “Pen of value”.  This pen is sitting at home on a shelf and is well used.  It bears a nursing insignia on the top and is a teal green on the bottom.  My dad gave it to me while he was clearing out his desk on one of his “De clutter” missions.  As an anecdote, my dad’s desk, work bench, and top dresser drawer were always a treasure chest of old, shiny items from compasses to pens to toys he had since he was a child–all played with while he was at work by me and occasionally my sisters.  The pen my dad gave me, in addition to two others, remain small treasures to me.

Anyhow, this Fisher Space Pen that I am currently feeling deep gratitude towards first traveled to Patagonia with me and later did several other bicycle trips.  It’s the pen with which I first wrote the ideas for this shop and it’s the pen with which I embark on all existential ponderings.  It’s also the pen with which I write prescriptions for new wheels.  It lives here in the shop, in my apron.

There isn’t much to say about the characteristics of the pen.  It feels nice in my hand, I can write upside down with it, on a wall, under water, and should my adventures take me to space, I could even use it there.

And that’s really the end of this thought.  A short love letter to my pen.  The catalyst of my crazed ideas, the joy of my inked adventures.

Here’s our list:

1. Went to visit Mellow Johnny’s in Austin, Texas to see some of the wheels we’ve built on Beloved bicycles.

2. Changed our name in favor of something a little sweeter

Our old logo

Our new name

3.  Volunteered with a great program in Gresham, OR called “Wheelz”.  This program was started by two dedicated teachers who were also cyclists.  The program meets twice a week after school and its mission is to help middle school kids ride safely with traffic and pedestrians, learn to maintain their bikes and have fun through fitness.  We showed up and showed them how to true wheels…and they did great!

4.  Moved our shop.  We octupled in size.  Literally.  We moved from our 64 square foot studio in SE Portland to our new space in N Portland on Williams.  In addition to the extra square footage and showroom we are sharing our space with Sweetpea Bicycles.

5. We taught our first Wheel Building and Wheel Truing classes with great success.  No tears being shed in the process=great success.

6.  We were featured in PELOTON MAGAZINE (Feb-Mar 2011 pg. 114).  We are less than 100 pages from Eddie Merckx!

And whilest we have been busy, we’ve maintained our love for helping you find the perfect ride, our curiosity about hand-built wheels, and our insatiable love for the open road.  We hope you’ve been well.  Stop in and see us at our new location!!

We like them and think that they’ll provide you with the opportunity to make your wheels something special.  Here are some questions we’ve gotten about our colored spokes:

Q:  What colors do you/will you offer?
A:  We’ll have a palette of stock colors+custom options.

Q:  Is it affordable?
A:  Yes.  On average, a colored spoke will cost about $.50 more per spoke.

Q:  Is the paint process eco-friendly?
A:  Yes.  We chose a process that is as green as we can get!

Q:  Are there any performance drawbacks?
A:  There aren’t any performance issues.  The only consideration with colored spokes is that it is paint and miles down the road the paint may thin where the spokes intersect.

It was April in Chicago.  The weather was in constant flux.  One day bright and sunny followed by a day of sleet and/or snow.  That’s the kind of spring April 2003 was.  In that month I was testing out a new theory for adventure called “Just set the date.”  It works like this:  If you want to do something, anything, just pick a date to do it.  I want to go to Zambia, just set the date and buy the ticket.  This type of adventuring would later be dubbed “SOPA” or “Seat of pants adventure.”  Though it was pre SOPA it was nonetheless a bonafide SOPA.

I had planned a trip to ride from Chicago to St. Louis in two days, loaded with panniers, having never done any sort of touring, camping, or the like.  But I had a date and so on May 11, I was to set out to St. Louis.  I decided to get some longer training rides in before the two-day, 300  mile trek.  So, naturally, I set a date for these as well.  Yes,I was a date setter.

So I chose any old Friday in April and committed to waking up, packing my lunch, and riding the 93 miles to Milwaukee, Wisconsin which was a route I had frequently and easily accomplished in the summer.  I committed to this ride regardless of weather.

This was the April, however, when the weather was in flux and on this particular April day it was in a down flux of sleet, snow, freezing rain, hail, etc.  I was, however, committed and so put on all my gear and set out.

I stopped after ten miles to warm my feet under a hand dryer at the botanical gardens.  I then took out my sandwich, put it in my pocket and bagged my feet with the sandwich bags.  I should have turned back.  The adult in me says “Turn back!!”  But, I kept going.

Twenty miles later I stopped again, now thoroughly soaked, freezing, and only beginning to question which way the wind was blowing.  This time I stopped at a laundry mat, stripped off most of my clothing and put it in a dryer.  To be blunt, this laundry mat was in the ghetto just outside of North Chicago.  It was equally as entertaining for me as I am sure it was for the people doing their laundry on a Friday night, eating Funyons and watching something on the one TV.

Having my clothes dried, I got on my bike again and started going North.  It was sleeting.  The roads were icy.  I had already passed a few cars that had spun out.  I kept going.

Then, the inevitable happened.  I shredded my tire.  I’m not sure how, even to this day.  Was it a large chunk of glass in the road that I couldn’t see?  Was it fate?  The answer is still a mystery but had this particular event never happened, I wouldn’t have learned the single most important lesson of my adventuring career.

After I came to terms that there was nothing I could do, that there was no bike shop opened in the vicinity that would sell me a tire to keep going, I had to come up with a plan.

In 2003 I had an early model of a cell phone.  I recall bringing it with “Just in case.”  The easiest solution for me was to call my dad who was going up to Wisconsin to pick my little sister up from boarding school.  In my mind, this was an easy fix.  Dad comes to pick me up and I am warm and dry sitting in the car sharing my crazy adventure.  This is not, however, what happened.

My dad answered his phone.  He was in the car driving up to Wisconsin as I had assumed.  In fact, he was close by.  I don’t remember much of the conversation anymore except this sentence: “You got yourself into it, you get yourself out of it.”  >Click<.

These words seem harsh by most standards.  I can understand.  It seemed harsh at the time—my dad didn’t want to come and rescue me from one of my adventures gone awry on a cold, stormy and now dark night when I was at least 50 miles from home.  I wasn’t offered much latitude in my late teens/early 20’s and this seemed to highlight that fact.  In defense of my dad, I didn’t think things through, I never have.  I am a leaper, not a looker.  Though his motivation is still unclear to me today, for whatever reason, those eleven words have become my mantra in times of dire stress—they’ve become my ticket to unlock my creativity, to find my way, and be open to how I get to my end destination.  They’ve also helped me own my adventure no matter the outcome.

What happened next is fairly amusing to my adult self.  I hitch hiked for the first time, learned to wait in a cold, dilapidated train station, be comfortable with the uncomfortable, get kicked off a train because bikes weren’t allowed, ask for help, and thrive on the joy of connecting with people who kindly offer to help.

In short, those eleven words fueled my adventure mantra:  Anything is possible.   And, while it doesn’t seem like the most earth shattering lesson, for me it was.  It opened a world of possibility, of unimaginable things, and fostered a spirit of joy and adventure.

For my parents, in hindsight, these are the worst eleven words uttered by my dad because after this adventure, nothing could stop me.  I had, in fact, figured my way back home in the most stress of conditions.

There have been a few days out touring which have offered similar conditions to that April 2003 adventure day.   Though I prepare more now, I rarely ever worry because I know I have the skills, the creativity, and tenacity to “Get myself out of it.”  Afterall, some of my best days on the road often include many moments of uncertainty, fear, joy, and “In the knick of time” solutions.

Enjoy the ride, every part of it.  Anything is possible.

If you haven’t already read the Oregonian article about Epic Wheel Works we mention our new location.  It’s true!  In mid-spring next year we’ll be moving up to our new location on Williams Ave.  in the HUB building which will be in close proximity to Ristretto Roasters (Thank goodness, coffee resource solved), UBI, and HUB.

While we are expanding our facility, we’re also expanding our talent.  Meet two new characters: Kurt+Luigi.  Kurt is the human one and Luigi is the silver one.  Already they are fast friends.

Kurt  + Luigi

http://www.thewashingmachinepost.net

a few days ago brian wrote to me from the uk asking me a few questions about wheels, business, and ‘being portland’.  to read more on my virtual conversation with brian go to:  http://thewashingmachinepost.net/portland/epic/update/

on a side note, being written about by ‘the washing machine post’ always leaves me feeling as though we are doing something more noble with our time than i could have ever imagined.  thanks brian!

This feedback comes to us from a customer who has started his own website as an ode to ti bicycles.  When working with Mike we considered using ti spokes to further his open affair with ti.  We opted for the CX Ray spokes based on the performance, maintenance, weight, and desired spoke count.  Check out Mike’s review of the wheels at: http://www.tirides.com/parts/stans-notubes-ztr-arch-29er-wheelset-dt-240s/

To learn more about Mike and his ti-bikes visit:  www.tirides.com

This year has one small exception inspired by Luis, who you recently met.  Luis grew a moustache for the new year saying it would “Help him be more ‘Portland.’”  I wanted to make one change too even it it wasn’t as profound:  Love the ride.

Since opening a small business the hours I have worked have impinged on my ride time, my motivation to bust out a 50 mile loop before work, and my desire to hit the sack early so I can get up and do it again.  I miss those days and so, those days are coming back.

So, in the spirit of the ancient Cycling Zodiac, this is The Year of The Ride.  And to that I say, Bring it!

We all know that every wheel builder has a little secret, a little magic tucked up their sleeve to put that extra bit of “Soul” into every wheel.  My little bit of magic is named Luis, lovingly dubbed the VP of wheel truing.

Reminiscent of a truing wrench from yesteryear, Luis belongs to the Park Tool family: http://www.parktool.com/product/master-mechanic-spoke-wrenches-SW-20.  This wrench makes the list of top ten beloved tools in my shop due to its aesthetic grace, weight, and down right practicality.  I beg to differ with those in the camp who say that a four sided truing wrench takes too much time in a wheel build.  Since his acquisition, ne’er have I seen a rounded nipple and the additional .000078 seconds it takes per nipple is well worth the time.

Luis boasts a solid 350 wheels under his name.  To drop Luis a greeting or begin work on your next set of Epic wheels e mail:  hello@epicwheelworks.com.

I’ve been able to get about 7 hours on them and LOVE the wheels!

The wheels look and feel INCREDIBLE! Super quick in acceleration, great overall road feel…and they look sweet on the bike.  Thanks so much for your help in this process and for building THE most EPIC wheels!!

- Russ Hopcus

This was maybe the most fun I’ve had writing a check!  A heart felt thanks to everyone who came out and had a blast raising money for the safe routes to school program!  there was an additional check written for the bta in the amount of $30 making our grand total:  $980!!

A big EPIC thank you goes out to everyone that attended our Live the Revolution party last week. With the help of our party sponsors and attendees we were able to raise $950 for the Bicycle Transportation Alliance’s Safe Routes to School educational program. We’re pretty excited about being able to say that we put that big of a chunk of cash towards promoting sustainable and safe transportation for kids… we CAN change the world one revolution at a time after all.

None of this would have been possible without our sponsors. A huge shout out to Madison’s for hosting the event and serving drinks all night long, Plywerk for mounting our winning photos, Bethany Bauman Design for the kick ass logo, DJ Hot Biology for the sweet beats, Hopworks/Metrofiets for their bike bar, and Rachel Meyer Photography for the totally fun and rocking photo booth.

And who were all those people in Epic t-shirts? That was the fun-loving Epic family that volunteered their time and good cheer to the evening: Kurt, Whitney, Brooke, Jon, Emily, Dave, Tori, Rachel, and Alex.

And of course, major props to all the cool companies that donated gear to our raffle: Nutcase Helmets, Plywerk, Gracie’s Wrench, Portland Design Works, Portland Roasting, Icebreaker, Osprey Packs, Keen, and Lizard Lounge.

Live the Revolution from Under Solen Media on Vimeo.

And this post wouldn’t be complete without congratulating our tire changing contest winners. After a rather crazy, and grueling, final heat, Matt Case took first place and Tomas Quinones scored runner-up (and because of Matt’s kindness, a pretty sweet Osprey hydration pack).

Check out a full selection of photos on our Facebook page. And while you’re at it, become a fan!

P.S. Didn’t score a t-shirt? Still want one? We’ve got a few left! Shoot an email to jude[at]epicwheelworks[dot]com if you want one!

Last Thursday we got the chance to take part at the Bike Economics event, which showcased Portland women-owned bike businesses…. just like Epic! Sarah Mirk over at the Portland Mercury took time to ask some of the participants a few questions, and Epic made the cut.

How long have you been doing this?

I was working in a shop and building wheels there, but I opened up my own custom wheel building store Epic Wheel Works last year, in 2009.

Don’t most people hate building wheels?

You can go postal on a wheel for sure. Your OCD disorders come out. But you get to touch every spoke on it, I like it. Wheels are big but they take sort of a backseat for a lot of people. They don’t get the glamor frame building does!

Other friends of ours, like Natalie Ramsland of Sweetpea Bicycles and Tori Bortman of Gracie’s Wrench were interviewed as well. Check out their great answers here.

Nothing’s more stylish than supporting locally-owned, independent business, which is why you’ve got to get your hands on a limited edition Live the Revolution Epic tee. We’ll be selling them at our Live the Revolution party on Thursday, but we wanted to give you the chance to buy one ahead of time. They’re only $20 and we take cash and checks. Shoot your size and contact info to jude[at]epicwheelworks[dot]com and we’ll hook you up!

Remember, all proceeds benefit the Bicycle Transportation Alliance’s educational program Safe Routes to School!

In celebration of exactly one year of custom designed, locally hand built wheels, Epic Wheel Works is throwing a benefit bicycle throwdown! “Live the Revolution” will be all about celebrating and supporting bikes and wheels, honoring Epic’s first year of work and the company’s commitment to not only putting people on great wheels but also supporting the local cycling community.

In conjunction with our celebration, we’re also hosting a photo contest, with the winning photo inspiring a handbuilt wheelset that will be auctioned off at the event. Want to take part? All you have to do is submit your bike-related photos to our Flickr pool or submit via email by sending them to epicwheelworks[at]gmail[dot]com.

“Live the Revolution” will feature an art show of our favorite photos, limited edition t-shirts, a wheel changing contest, a photo booth thanks to the talented RM Photo and more. We’ll also be raffling off some sweet goods from people like Nutcase Helmets, Plywerk, Gracie’s Wrench, Portland Design Works, Portland Roasting, Icebreaker, Osprey Packs, Keen, and gift cards from Lizard Lounge and Madison’s Grill, with all proceeds benefiting the Bicycle Transportation Alliance’s educational program Safe Routes to School.

And did we mention that Metrofiets will be bringing their bike bar and DJ Hot Biology will be throwing down some chill beats??

Where: Madison’s Grill, 1109 SE Madison, PDX
When: May 13, 2010, 6-9pm
Why: To celebrate Epic Wheel Work’s one-year anniversary, support local cycling culture and BTA’s educational program, Safe Routes to School.

Note: Please RSVP to events[at]epicwheelworks[dot]com

View PDF version of invite here.

It’s official: Epic turns 1 today! That’s right, we’ve been making wheels for one whole year now, and we couldn’t be happier!

Want to take part in celebrating our birthday? Then mark your calendars for May 13 when we’ll be throwing an Epic celebration/benefit throwdown. With proceeds from the night going to support the Bicycle Transportation Alliance’s youth education programs through Oregon’s Safe Routes to School, and lots of sweet swag from cool local bike companies, you’ll be sure to want to take part! More info to come soon…

What do bikes mean to you? Have you been riding one as a child? Did you recently start bike commuting? Are you so close to your bike that it has a pet name? In celebration of Epic Wheel Works’ 1 Year Anniversary, we’re hosting a photo contest. We want to see just how you “live the revolution.”

We’re going to be celebrating big time with our Live the Revolution benefit throwdown, hosted at Madison’s on May 13, 2010. As part of the event, we’ll be displaying some of our favorite photo submissions as part of a bike-inspired art show. Not only that, but also, one photo will be selected and used as inspiration for a set of custom hand built wheels, auctioned off at the event with proceeds going to support the Bicycle Transportation Alliance’s youth education programs through Oregon’s Safe Routes to School.

How do you enter? It’s easy! You can either upload your photo to the Epic Wheel Works Flickr pool or send an email to epicwheelworks[at]gmail[dot]com. Just remember to include a description of your photo and your contact info! Deadline is April 30, 2010.

Welcome to the official Epic Wheel Works blog! Along with the launch of our site re-design, we’re launching this space as a place to keep you up to date on all that’s happening at Epic HQ, what we’re working on, things in the bike world we’re digging and all the cool bike-related efforts and initiatives around the globe that are making the world a better place.

Because we believe in being Epic, contributing and being something greater than oneself.

How are you Epic? We want to know, so come join in our conversation!

But how did the wheels perform? After over 3000 miles of fully loaded off-road touring, I put them on a truing stand, and discovered that neither wheel was more than 1/10 mm out of true, and the hubs still turned as smooth as butter.

I could not recommend Epic Wheel Works more highly.

- Daniel Fleischer