Ashland, Oregon. Desalvo and UBI

Circles

Photo by Shinya Tanaka/Photo by Rie Sawada

I'm retracing this summer's journey in chronological order.

I'm reminded once again how crazy I was being,
but everyone has their own plans, and I had a fair amount of free time,
so I was roaming around the vast continent in search of the thrills and excitement
that only such freedom can offer.

After a fun night in Santa Cruz, I woke up at 4 a.m.
(A schedule that I can honestly say wasn't crazy.)
Without even having breakfast, I headed straight back to SFO.

Boarding the first flight of the morning, she is Oh my baby,,,

It's a propeller plane. Nice.
(I definitely won't be able to sleep.)

Our destination is Oregon. Huh? Oregon? Wait, Oregon?
I was there the day before yesterday, babe, I think I'm saying that to myself.
But I have to go, and I have no choice but to go—that's my journey.

But our destination, Ashland, is a town in southern Oregon, right on the California border.
A 40-minute flight, and we're here.
We won't be doing any five-hour drives this time.

I had to somehow meet and talk to Mike Desalvo before his vacation,
so I came to Ashland, a beautiful town that looks like a great place to live.

But before that, I headed downtown to eat the breakfast I missed.
(Downtown is actually coming in handy this time.)

um. looks yam yam! taste yam yam!

This is what I love most.
Two Eggs & HashBrown.
And if you add some toast with a little kindness, you can live on that.

I think everyone misunderstands America in different ways,
for example, Denny's in America.
The portions there are so incredibly huge it's like they're trying to kill you!
I really do think that, but they actually cook the potatoes and eggs properly in the kitchen.
How about the ones in Japan? Aren't they just microwaved?

That's the point.

Chain stores aren't bad, as long as they follow the recipe and someone actually makes it right there.
No matter how cool you call it a central kitchen, it's still just "beep".
No one would want to work if they made things that way.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks so, so let's work harder, Japan!

While making excuses that this is part of the joy of travel and that's how many things are born from it,
I headed to the workshop just around the corner.

Desalvo Custom Cycles

Arrived at Desalvo Custom Cycles.

The first person I ever placed a custom order with in America.

That's Mike Desalvo.

Because I thought he was an extremely ordinary, extremely reliable, and extremely meticulous builder.

A lot of people think that when you say custom order,
it means they'll do anything for you, so they sometimes overthink it
and come in asking for something "really" radical,
but sometimes I think it's better not to overdo it.
(Of course, I make an effort to say what I think,
and matching the right product to the right person is what matters most.)

And truly good products don't have to change overnight,
but I'll make sure to tell someone somewhere that they're really good.
And I've learned throughout my life that we find them,
and that facing them with sincerity is what's truly important.
(That can be done through a monitor or in a magazine.)

That's why I really scrutinized them and compared them to Vanilla and IF until I was sick of it.

It's been seven years since then, but I can still proudly recommend his work to everyone.

This is a good product. He's a good man.

There are things like skill and sense, of course,
and the deadlines and communication can be terrible, but that's okay.
More and more people are starting to understand what he means,
(He was a teacher at UBI and also helped out at Speedvagen.)
He's one of the people I really want to see working his hands even more.
He leaves such beautifully clean marks on both titanium and steel,
and every time I see them, I think, "Wow, he really is amazing,"
and then it's a real problem when you end up riding a finished bike.
You can't help but think from the bottom of your heart,
"What makes it so different?"
That's how I would describe a Desalvo bike.

And his other workplace is right here in Ashland.

UBI ( United Bicycle Institute)

“UBI ( United Bicycle Institute) ”

It's a school for training bicycle mechanics & builders.
It's been "30 years" since the school started.
Sycip, Engin, and many of the builders who come to NAHBS today
are graduates of this school.

Honestly, the cost is low.

Low cost is a good thing for anything.
Because it means it's easier to start,
which makes it more likely to become something big.
Honestly, whether you continue or not is up to the person,
and whether it's good or bad is up to the customer,
so I think what matters is how you can give them a reason to start.
It's just like a job—those who want to stay will stay,
and those who want to quit will quit.
But I think the most important thing is whether society can give them that opportunity.

I think it's incredibly affordable to save up about $3,000,
go to Ashland, immerse yourself in English,
and learn the know-how of bicycles.
(After that, it's all about how serious the person is.)
And there's something I'd like to keep as a secret of traditional Japanese village society,
but it becomes even more interesting when it gets out into the world.

Who knew bicycles were so simple?

And I want more and more children to say,
"Alright, I'm going to make a living doing this!"

Paul is now a teacher @UBI

It's good to take your time and carefully nurture something until it's really good,
and it's also good to just let them try it on their own.
The important thing is whether they can make the decision to do it.
After that, it's about whether we can all work hard to support such wonderful people.

But I really do think.
How wonderful and reassuring it is to have someone close by who truly takes care of your bicycle.
And I think those are the only people who can truly call themselves "bicycle shops".

I think it will be even more fun when more and more bicycle shops with such high ideals come along.