NAHBS Recap (part two of....?)

One thing Denver does well is slush. In fact, aside from the pretty bikes and nice people, my strongest NAHBS memory is soggy feet. Every morning, my boots got wet. Then every afternoon. Then every evening. Fortunately for me, taxis are cheap in Denver and the city is small. But everywhere you look there are the mountains, looking implacable and restlessness-inducing and close.

Those things in the background are not clouds. 

Come to think of it, the last time I went to a non-local bike show it was in Las Vegas, which is also surrounded by mountains. What's with taking a bunch of outdoorsy folks, bringing them somewhere with a lot of wanderlust-inducing scenery, and then shutting them up in a stuffy convention hall? 

Aside from the bikes, the star of NAHBS was surely my shop's alcoholic woodchuck, imaginatively named Chuck. 

Morning hangover...

Afternoon Old Chub

Late afternoon Old Chub

Seriously, that plush animal designer is a bloody genius. Speaking of bloody geniuses....

LOOK AT THOSE LUGS. Chris Bishop is one of my building heros. 

Shin-Ishi Konno is another framebuilding titan. THOSE BARS. 

And a delightfully unserious steampunk machine from Donkelope.

It was all rather overwhelming, and I tried to take in the endless array of gleaming bikes in small segments so I could appreciate them. Like Westerners, framebuilders tend to be intimidatingly nice. As I strolled around the hall I was shown pictures of babies and three legged cats, offered places to stay in at least three countries, and un-creepily asked to half a dozen parties. I think that for much of the year committed bike dorks are just that-- huge dorks-- and at these shows everyone is thrilled to be surrounded by kindred souls for whom dorkiness is aspirational. 

In the evening I went to a lovely party in some enormous and dank bar. By then my Charming and Patient Gentleman Friend (CPGF) had arrived, so my contentment was complete. There was a bluegrass band that sounded exactly like the one that plays at Fiume on Thursday nights. Apparently stringing a beer can on some mardi gras beads to wear around one's neck is a thing in Colorado. I meant to get one for the woodchuck, but I forgot. 

Photo via Pedaldancer, who has a better camera than me.

Again, the non-creepy niceness of everyone there was astonishing. I can't think of any other context where the males outnumbered the females by about seven to one where I would feel so comfortable and respected. Of course, CPGF being there helped. We found ourselves singing the Canadian national anthem with some guys from Montreal and Vancouver. I don't even know the Canadian national anthem!

And the memory is making me tired. To be continued....

--Isis