Relocation Update

As I have mentioned, Mellow Velo is relocating to somewhat larger, considerably swoopier digs. Your erudite reporter managed a quick tour today, and with a secret decoder ring and a trophy-buckle camera.

Virtual tour in subdued hues...

From across the street, heading north on Old Santa Fe Trail...


Behind the hedge awaits the entrance (for a few)...


Most will sweep around back and stumble in the door on the right... and yes, Pi, the "beefsteak" is on the road again


Inside the back door. The "stone" bench will be to your left...


With a bathroom, then on to the kitchen (yes, a kitchen) on the far left...


Art's bench, and soon the "fridge" bench (mine,mine,mine), in the grotto on the right...


Moving forward to the back of the front door, we find the beginning of the espresso bar...


And to the left of that is Bike Mike, and the clothing room...


Which has some shelving, nice lighting, and a ladder...


Then on through the doorway to David and the New Bike room...


Turning left yet again to the lounge area, and Brian (who will probably be in the same spot when any of you actually set foot here)...


Beyond which we find the kitchen (yes, a kitchen), and at the end of the maze, the door we came in. Or was it the bathroom window?


Outside, on the right side of the building, is a strip of yard that is perfect for cleaning and prepping the rental fleet. Gravel, faucet, shade...

This is a delicious space, and perfect for a shop that does rentals as well as sales and service. The separate rooms, the old world / old school feel of the building, historic 'hood... it's going to be a great home base.

52 days free, by the way

Barter, in the first.

Being a wrench has its advantages if you live in anything resembling "barter town". It's a service that is good for beer, groceries, couch. It will win friends and influence people much better that the 'hearts and minds' theory*. Today it garnered me a most unusual trade; tenor drum lessons.

Now, I didn't really know that I wanted to learn to play percussion, and hadn't planned on it. I had stepped in to listen to the practice of an interesting local phenomenon, and through a whirlwind moment of somewhat intentional miscommunication, I find myself in line to play in a band.
A marching band.
A Scottish Pipe and Drum Band.

Ah, well, any excuse to wear a kilt.


25 days without the nails!

*If you are unfamiliar with this US policy, ask. I'll give you the line.