Unreal estate

The Adventure Cycling Association HQ in Missoula.

Looks like the tussle between the Empire and the Rebellion is coming down to … a vote?

What, no starships, no light sabers, not even a Silca in the spokes?

Well, good on ’em, sez I. May the best argument win.

The Empire’s case for selling the Adventure Cycling Association’s HQ can be found on the ACA website.

The Rebellion’s case against the sale I have cut-and-pasted below, from email, because it’s the argument I support.

A quick disclaimer: I probably shouldn’t be weighing in here. I’ve let my ACA membership lapse, and most of the people I remember from the time I spent reviewing bicycles in my own peculiar way for Adventure Cyclist have left the organization.

But I remember fondly my years orbiting the periphery of the outfit as a sort of weirdo-at-large. I also remember a dark time when, if I found myself short of funds due to questionable financial practices and yet desirous of strong drink and/or powerful drugs in quantity, I would pawn one of my handguns to tide me over until payday.

That sort of behavior, like selling your home and then renting space in it, is not smart. But at least I could always get my handgun back without much fuss.

So, if I had a dog in this hunt, it would bark, “NO!”

With that said, up the rebels! Their argument follows:

Dear Members and Friends of Adventure Cycling,

If you are a current member of Adventure Cycling, you may have recently received a letter from the organization’s new executive director, Andy Williamson, urging members to vote for the sale of our Missoula headquarters at 150 E. Pine Street. The organization has received an offer of $2.55 million for the building and property. While we appreciate the financial challenges facing the organization, we believe selling this building—the debt-free, member-funded heart of Adventure Cycling—is the wrong solution at the wrong time.

Our goal is not confrontation but clarity. Below we address several points made in Andy Williamson’s message and explain why keeping the headquarters is central to Adventure Cycling’s recovery and long-term vitality.

1 · Financial Stability Requires Rebuilding, Not Liquidation
Andy Williamson states the $2.55 million sale would provide a financial“runway.” In truth, this is a one-time infusion that consumes a core endowment asset with limited long-term benefit. Independent analyses from former staff and Life Members demonstrate that Adventure Cycling can balance its budget without selling the building, through right-sizing the staff, leasing unused space, restoring donor confidence, and rebuilding programs. The building itself can generate revenue via tenants while continuing to serve as the organization’s public face. Once sold, that stream—and the underlying equity—are gone forever.

2 · An “Underutilized” Building Is a Symptom, Not the Cause
Andy’s letter cites an ‘underutilized, aging building’ that houses only seven staff. Yet that is a management choice, not an inherent flaw. Adventure Cycling’s earlier success stemmed from a dedicated staff working together under one roof, where spontaneous collaboration and shared purpose fueled innovation. Bringing staff back to Missoula—full- or part-time—would revive this culture and improve member service. National studies confirm that in-person collaboration increases creativity and performance, benefits that cannot be replicated through a fully remote structure.

3 · Deferred Maintenance Is Manageable
The building is fully paid for and exempt from property tax. Historical operating costs average roughly $25,000 per year for utilities, insurance, and routine upkeep. Moreover, the Life Member Fund and donor community stand ready to support maintenance when engaged transparently. Selling a building because of manageable upkeep costs is fiscally shortsighted.

4 · Membership Decline Reflects Lost Engagement, Not “Aging Out”
Leadership attributes falling membership to demographics. In fact, ACA’s own data show that the older cycling cohort is growing, not shrinking, nationwide. Membership losses track instead with reduced programs,rising dues, and the diminished services now offered through a remote staff . Restoring value—through vibrant tours, high-quality publications, and responsive outreach—will rebuild membership far more sustainably than selling headquarters property.

5 · Mission and Identity Depend on Place
For nearly 34 years, 150 E. Pine Street has welcomed cyclists from around the world. It is part museum, part visitor center, and wholly symbolic of Adventure Cycling’s mission to inspire, empower, and connect people to travel by bike. Relinquishing ownership of this “Mecca of bicycle travel” would fracture that identity. The building embodies continuity, credibility, and community trust—qualities no lease-back agreement can replace.

6 · Constructive Alternatives Exist
Rather than liquidating assets, ACA should implement the actionable recovery strategies already outlined by longtime members and advisors:

  • Re-establish balanced budgets where expenses match income;• Rebuild the interconnected ‘engagement funnel’ of routes, tours, membership, magazine, and advocacy;• Lease unused building space to compatible nonprofits or outdoor businesses;
  • If necessary, borrow short-term funds against the equity of the headquarters building;
  • Launch a donor appeal linked to the 50th Anniversary celebration;
  • Recruit new leadership and board members with proven nonprofit and financial expertise.

These measures strengthen the organization while preserving its heritage and its home.

7 · A Vote NO Is a Vote for Adventure Cycling’s Future
Selling the headquarters might ease today’s cash flow but would undermine tomorrow’s foundation. Adventure Cycling has weathered crises before—each time by relying on the passion, generosity, and ingenuity of its staff and members, not by selling the assets acquired over decades.

We therefore urge every eligible member to vote NO on the proposed. Keep Adventure Cycling rooted in Missoula, where it began and where its mission still thrives.

The fact that ACA was cash positive at year-end 2023 makes this proposed building sale especially troubling. For that reason, the members of Save ACA will be voting NO on the sale of the building.

You have that same opportunity—but timing is critical.If you are not a current member, you must join or renew by 7:59 a.m. Monday, November 3 to be eligible to vote. Voting will take place between 8a.m. November 4 and November 24 through the official voting page.

With respect, determination, and gratitude, the members of Save ACA:

Dan Burden
Lys Burden
Greg Siple
June Siple
Jim Sayer
Sheila Snyder
Cyndi Steiner
Ginny Sullivan
Gary MacFadden

Burning down the house

These adventure-starved kids are burning down our house!

These kids today. Why aren’t they out there riding their damn’ bikes like we did when we were their age?

Why, when I was a pup. …

Sigh. It’s the same old song; music they’ve never danced to. “I said, ‘Ride, Sally, ride, now. …”

Writing at The Atlantic, freelancer Erin Sagen says today’s kids are very much not riding their bicycles, and for a variety of perfectly defensible reasons, too:

Boy howdy. Citing stats from the National Sporting Goods Association, Sagen writes that during the 1990s, an average of 20.5 million children ages 7 to 17 rode a bike six or more times a year. By 2023, a few decades later, that number dropped to about 10.9 million. And of those kids, less than 5 percent rode their bikes “frequently.”

Six or more times a year? Sheeyit. We hopped on our bikes six or more times a week. Some of us still do. It’s fun, it’s exercise, it’s transportation … it’s liberation. Damn The Man! Let’s get big air at the gravel pit! Using one chain to break another, as it were.

No mas, no mas. !Que triste es la vida velo!

No wonder the Adventure Cycling Association has put its storied headquarters up for sale. Once a must-see for the membership, it’s only visited now by a handful of overripe saddle tramps in saggy wool shorts who just herded a 36-pound steel bike, hung about with tattered ripstop sacks stuffed with camping gear, canned beans, and one change of underwear, from Miami to Missoula without once stopping for a shower.

According to the ACA board of directors, the group’s membership has been dwindling for at least five years as its demographic “ages out” of bike travel. Tours and map sales are likewise struggling, and the association is failing to attract a younger crowd because ACA’s “brand” is seen as a raggedy-assed herd of sunburnt old roadies who just aren’t hep to the latest jive (gravel, bikepacking, insert your thrill of the minute here).

So, bam! The ACA HQ goes on the block, listed for $2.7 million, reports The Missoulian, its hometown newspaper.

I don’t know how this sale might save the ACA, because I haven’t seen any actual rescue proposals put forward. Just some MarketSpeak® in Bicycle Retailer about how ACA is “facing a crossroads,” “grappling with challenges,” and “addressing brutal truths while maintaining faith in the mission,” and how selling the HQ will “help us adapt to our reality, giving us the runway to reshape our programs and resources to continue inspiring transformative bike travel experiences.”

Friend of the Blog Diane “The Outspoken Cyclist” Lees is among those not convinced. She has viewed with alarm at her Substack, and former members of the organization — including its founders — are among the people who put together this petition urging that the sale be stopped.

Now, $2.7 mil’ may sound like a lot of money, especially if you don’t have it. But since Bikecentennial hit the road in 1976 I have, despite an appalling shortage of investment capital and absolutely no plan at all, pissed away at least that much on cigarettes, booze, drugs, guns, comic books, actual literature, albums, CDs, stereo gear, Toyota trucks and Subaru cars, road trips in three countries, moving violations in one of them, cheap motels, pet-friendly rentals, real estate, meals remarkable and questionable, vet bills, drawing paper, pencils, and pens, countless Apple products and peripherals, cable TV, streaming video, Internet hookups (no, not that kind of Internet hookup), blog/podcast hosting, and audio-visual gear.

And the only person who got any bicycling out of it all was me — in 1976, because I had been doing without a driver’s license for a few years thanks to a minor traffic accident (hit by a train), and afterward because I learned to love it (the cycling, not being hit by trains).

By the time Bikecentennial blossomed into the Adventure Cycling Association in 1993 I had settled down a great deal. It helped that after 15 years of newspapering I was officially and permanently unemployed, building a second career of sorts as a freelancer peddling vicious libels, ugly scribbles, and outright lies to niche magazines with the circulation of a week-old murder victim. I had also begun racing bicycles, and acquiring them, the latter a jones which haunts me to this day.

And after a decade and a half of that, thanks to the risk-taking spirit of the late, great Mike Deme, and his successors, Alex Strickland and Dan Meyer, I even sold some word count to Adventure Cyclist, at a time when the decline and fall of the for-profit bicycle magazine had left me short on runway and having trouble adapting to my reality.

Those dudes, and the other great advocates for and facilitators of bicycle travel I met while scribbling bike reviews for Adventure Cyclist, have all left the building that ACA plans to sell for … whatever. I’m sorry that I never visited them there, because now I never will. The building will become a bespoke hotel, law office, or assisted-living residence, whose half-daffy inmates will swear to their keepers that in the wee hours of the darkening night they hear the clicking of wide-range cassettes and catch a whiff of overworked chamois cream.

Sell the real estate? That’s what vulture capitalists do when they add another newspaper to their portfolio. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. A storied newspaper building becomes office space, condos, or a parking lot, the printing gets outsourced, and the few remaining journos who produce the paper are exiled to some soulless strip-mail shithole with all the joie de vivre of a happy-ending massage parlor — chances are the space used to be a happy-ending massage parlor — because the vulture capitalists don’t have any souls of their own and can’t imagine why anyone would want one. Bad for the bottom line.

Sell the real estate? Would the pope sell the Sistine Chapel? Puh-leeze. Dude won’t even Airbnb his summer place at Castel Gandolfo. Even a fucking Realtor will tell you it’s all about location, location, location.

Sell the real estate? It’s like eating your seed corn. Nothing down that long and winding road except for maybe one big dump and then death. Remember the wisdom of another intrepid traveler, Buckaroo Banzai, who has taught us: “No matter where you go, there you are.”

Is it too late for all these weak-in-the-knees whippersnappers askeered of the big, bad cars to revisit their cushy lifestyles, take a big ol’ bite out of life, savor the flavor of adventure cycling? And save the Adventure Cycling Association’s venerable headquarters, the hub around which America’s bicycle-travel universe revolves?

For the love of Deme, put that smartphone down, Rain, Drain or Spokane, whatever the hell your helicopter parents named your sorry ass, unless you’re calling Soma Fabrications to order up a damn’ Pescadero. Listen to the Voices. Here’s your panniers, there’s the door, what’s your hurry?

Don’t make me stop this blog and come back there.

Monday, Monday. …

Splish splash, I wasn’t takin’ no bath. …

It’s been one of those Mondays.

Monday is a watering day. But the forecast called for rain, so early this morning I went out to shut off the irrigation system.

“Huh,” I thought. “Doesn’t look like rain to me.” So I left it on.

Monday is also Geezer Ride Day. So, naturally about the time the watering was done, the clouds started creeping in and the wind began ramping up.

“Huh,” I thought. “Better bail on the ride.” Which I did.

Monday is not Grocery Day. That would be Sunday. But I blew off Sunday’s grocery shopping for a two-hour bike ride in the wind plus a meet-and-greet with the mayor and a few dozen of his supporters.

So suddenly Monday was Grocery Day. And off I toddled to the Sprouts at Tramway and Central, en route nearly getting croaked by a street racer who roared up behind me in the right lane, then shot into the left and around me, barely missing both me and the dude slightly ahead of me in the left lane.

He then swerved onto the shoulder to pass everyone else in sight at about 25 mph over the 50-mph limit, which encouraged another jackass to do likewise, scattering dust, gravel, and debris from previous eejit-triggered crashes across the traffic lanes.

It happened so fast, in so much traffic, that I couldn’t grab the iPhone for a shot of either license plate. And it wasn’t the first time I’d wished I had some other sort of shooter with a tad more authority, like a Browning Hi-Power or a Colt 1911. I mean, you can’t AirDrop one or both of the silly sonsabitches.

Anyway, I got to the grocery without being killed to death, and only then did I notice that I’d left my grocery list at home.

“Huh,” I thought. “Maybe I can do it off the old internal hard drive.”

And I did! Didn’t miss a single item, and even picked up a bonus packet of ground turkey for a chili con carne in case the weather turned ugly.

Which of course it did, since I’d decided earlier to water the lawn. Our widget makes it 0.08 inch of precip slashing down sideways out of the north, and I expect that statistic does not include the hail.

“Huh,” I thought. “I suppose a run is out.” Which it was.

So instead of running, since a few of you seemed to enjoy our little Tour of Memory Lane, I decided to spend a couple hours collecting and posting PDFs of a few of my Adventure Cyclist reviews.

Naturally, I couldn’t find the one about the Rivendell Sam Hillborne, the bike I was riding in yesterday’s wind-fest (13 mph with gusts to 23). If I recall correctly, that one didn’t make the print magazine, but was posted to the Adventure Cyclist blog, where it languishes behind the membership paywall.

“Huh,” I thought. “I bet I have my original copy on another Mac.” And I do.

But I’m not gonna post it. Not yet. I got chili to cook.

Glory Road: Soma Pescadero

The Soma Pescadero takes five in the kitchen while the engine room refuels.

It’s probably a good thing that I couldn’t lay my hands on a Soma Pescadero back in 2020.

It was the beginning of the Plague Years, and bits of this, that, and the other — toilet paper, peace of mind, bicycle bits — were scarce as common sense.

Nevertheless, Adventure Cyclist had been in touch, wondering if I had any review possibilities in the pipeline, and the Pescadero leapt instantly to mind.

The Soma Fabrications website was pitching this old-school steel scoot as an alternative for “all-road” cyclists who wanted a classic looker suited to large rubber and long rides, but without the subtle insults to form and function posed by disc brakes. This put the Pescadero smack dab in the middle of my antiquated wheelhouse.

I was already a happy Soma customer, with two Saga touring bikes and one Double Cross cyclocross-slash-light tourer in the garage. And it seemed significant that Soma’s parent organization, the Merry Sales Co. of San Francisco, was born shortly after a previous calamity, the Great Earthquake of 1906.

In previous negotiations over review framesets, honcho Jim Porter and marketeer Stan Pun had always proved themselves reasonable, resourceful, and flexible — admirable qualities, suited to all situations, and never more so than when dealing with a small-batch, rim-braking, friction-shifting Luddite in search of the fixins for a bespoke bike in the middle of a pandemic.

So I fired off an email.

• • •

Longtime readers already know the background, so I’ll cut to the chase. There were no Pescaderos to be had, in any size. There was this plague going on, you see.

The New Albion Privateer, in matte black.

So Pun pitched me on another house-brand frameset, a New Albion Privateer, saying it resembled the Double Cross I already knew and loved, but with “a lower bottom-bracket height, longer chainstays, and heavier tubes.”

Steel? Check. Tange Infinity double-butted main triangle and other chromoly elsewhere. Rim brakes? Roger that. Your choice of cantilevers or V-brakes. Fat tires? Claro que si. Up to 700c x 41mm.

Say no more. I ordered one, reviewed it, and eventually bought it.

Had a Pescadero been available, I might not ever have become acquainted with the Privateer. Which would have been sad, because five years later it’s one of my favorite bikes, the one I tend to reach for first when it’s time to ride.

It was well suited to the Adventure Cyclist audience, too. Three sets of bottle bosses and a pump peg. Eyelets for racks and fenders front and rear. Versatile as a product manager in a pandemic. Ride it to work or the next town down the line.

And the Pescadero? Turns out it’s less about hauling a load, and more about hauling ass.

• • •

Last year I’d begun thinking about a new bike aimed at my friendly local group ride, something sporty for our senior-citizen shootouts. My old road-racing bike, a 20-pound titanium DBR Prevail TT from 1994, is fun but twitchy, with a really short wheelbase, really tall gearing, and a 25mm cap on tire size. A beautiful custom Nobilette from 2008 has a more geezer-friendly drivetrain and a less racy geometry, but can accommodate only a slightly fatter tire.

Thus I revisited the Pescadero, with its road-sport geometry — “between road-race and cyclocross bikes in handling responsiveness,” according to Soma — and its capacity for 38mm rubber, my favorite size. (My Steelman cyclocross bikes max out at 35mm.)

Lo and behold, this time it was in stock. The Soma people proposed a deal — some no-strings slack on the price for some straight-up thoughts on the frameset — and so here we are.

Now, I didn’t strive for the lightest possible build on either the Pescadero or the Privateer because I’m not a gram-counter. So my Pescadero weighs in at 24 pounds, 8 ounces, just 11 oh-zees lighter than the Privateer.

This is in part because the two share a number of component choices: 46/30T IRD Defiant cranks, IRD QB55 bottom bracket, and Shimano PD-A520 pedals; Shimano Deore rear derailleurs, S-Ride cassettes, and KMC chains; Selle Italia Flite saddles and Thomson Elite seat posts; Soma’s Hwy One handlebars and Crane stems; and 38mm Soma-label tires.

The biggest differences between the two are … not all that big. But noticeable.

On the climb to La Cueva.

The Pescadero ups the Privateer’s metallurgical ante with a lighter steel — heat-treated, double-butted Tange Prestige for the main triangle and Tange Infinity for the fork, as on my Double Cross. Its head tube is 15mm shorter than the Privateer’s, but the Crane stem/Hwy One cockpit still gives me a nice upright position and easy access to the drops without proclaiming me the King of Spacer Mountain.

The Privateer sets sail with a seven-speed cassette (11-34T) and Rivendell Silver friction bar-end shifters, while the Pescadero rolls with nine (11-32T) and Dia-Compe bar-cons, also friction.

Those two additional cogs (plus an Ultegra triple front derailleur, the only one I had on hand) add a small degree of difficulty to speedy shifting. But I’m rarely in a rush. That said, I may eventually give the Pescadero seven cogs (the biggest with two extra teefers) and a proper front derailleur, too.

Come stopping time, the Privateer uses Paul Components’ excellent MiniMoto V-brakes and Gran Compe levers, while the Pescadero sports the elegant and grippy Paul Comp’ Racer centerpulls and Shimano Tiagra levers that remind me favorably of the old Shimano 600s on my Double Cross.

The Paul Components Racer centerpull brake.

I waffled, briefly, while deciding on the brakes. The Pescadero can use centerpulls like Paul’s or long-reach sidepulls, such as the considerably cheaper Tektro R559. But I already had a set of those on a Rivendell Sam Hillborne and wanted to see how the Paul’s centerpulls checked out. Duh. They’re awesome.

Full disclosure: I’m a big fan of Paul’s brakes. Five of my bikes are so equipped and I have a set of MiniMotos in a box awaiting their callup.

Both bikes are handsome, but the Pescadero definitely has the edge in the looks department. The Privateer is matte black with white panels, stylish yet understated. The Pescadero is officially a glossy “slate gray” with pistachio-green panels. But once I saw it in real life I heard Mickey O’Neill saying, “An’ she’s terrible partial to the periwinkle blue, boys.” It was the color he wanted for his ma’s caravan in the Guy Ritchie flick “Snatch.”

So if this bicycle ever gets a first name, it will be Mickey, and you’ll know it has nothing to do with that mouse.

But your ma’s caravan — trailer, in British lingo — it is not.

• • •

Oh, sure, the Pescadero can accept a rear rack and front mini-rack, or frame bags, seat bags, and handlebar packs. But its wheelbase and chainstays are shorter than those on a purpose-built touring bike — even shorter than the Privateer’s. So, while light rack and/or bikepacking loads are possible, a serious tourist would probably be advised to check out some other model.

Ditto a gravel rider. The Pescadero is a roadie, its tighter geometry intended to provide a snappy ride on the mean streets while fitting a tire plump enough to blunt the bumps.

And it delivers.

When I rise from the saddle on the steeps the Pescadero leaps forward like a salmon heading upstream to spawn. Diving at speed into corners that have the Privateer murmuring, “We can do this,” the Pescadero shouts, “Let’s do this!” Its trimmer figure — less fork rake, shorter chainstays, and lower weight — sure get the party started. I actually found myself getting a little aggro’ in sharp turns, which is not at all like me.

The compact Pescadero is sprightly on the flats and rollers, too, and probably would be even more so had I not gone slightly overboard on its wheels. Two Wheel Drive here in Albuquerque built them up with Alex Adventurer 2 rims, Shimano RS-400 hubs, Soma Shikoro tires, and Specialized AirLock inner tubes. With cassette and quick-release skewers we’re talking a total of 8 pounds, 12 ounces.

The Privateer’s wheels, an ancient set from Excel Sports in Boulder — Mavic Open Pro rims, Shimano 600 hubs, and Soma’s The Everwear tires with AirLock tubes — are 11 ounces lighter, which is not insignificant when we’re talking rotating weight.

I’ve thought idly about stealing those wheels for the Pescadero. After all, that’s how the Privateer got ’em; I robbed them from a Voodoo Wazoo.

Alex Adventurer 2 rim with Soma Shikoro tire.

Plus, if I liberated those wheels I could shave off a few more ounces by going with 33mm tires. The 38mm Soma Shikoros on the Pescadero run 430 grams; the 33mms on the Nobilette, 350g. So, by downsizing the rubber I’d save an additional 160g, or 5.6 oz. Call it a third of a pound. Frost that cake by going to sealant-free tubes, 213g vs. 128g. Another one-third el-bee. Hell, if I keep this up I can make the whole damn’ bike disappear! Sail along “by sheer force of personality,” like Oscar and his comrades in Robert A. Heinlein’s “Glory Road.”

Or not. As I noted earlier, I don’t really care about weight. Albuquerque’s roads are a seamed and scarred Frankenstein’s monstrosity, and I want a stout wheelset and plump, low-pressure tires with puncture-plugging inner tubes saving my booty from the beast. I run those 38s at no more than 50 psi rear and 45 front, which helps.

Anyway, I like those Excel Sports wheels right where they are. The New Albion Privateer is spot on as is. I may try a lighter wheelset on the Pescadero further on up the road, for the sake of velo-science. But right here, right now, I’m perfectly happy with my new favorite bike.

And that’s probably a good thing. The Plague of 2025 — which is most definitely manmade — is sickening the global supply chain with insane tariffs, shipping hassles, and a general skittishness throughout, from suppliers to wholesalers to retailers to “end users,” who are certainly getting used in their ends.

If I were in the market for a new bike and had a garage full of parts, plus $799.95 that wasn’t committed elsewhere, I’d buy me a Soma Pescadero, like, yesterday. If I didn’t already have one.

You should have one too.

• P.S.: Soma has launched its Memorial Day sale a week early — as in this weekend through Monday — and is offering to slash 20 percent off all regularly priced items. You’ll need the Secret Code: memorialday25. Merry Sales will be serving up the bargains, too, with 15 percent off. Git ’em while they’re hot!

I was framed (and forked)!

Soma Fabrications has a sale going on.

My friends at Soma Fabrications are knocking 20 percent off their already reasonably priced frames and forks, which makes them a deal and a half for anyone in the market for a new rig.

Click the link to get the deets. And you’ll wanna move fast, because this sale ends tomorrow.

Me, I’ve finally gotten my paws on a Soma Pescadero, the frameset I originally wanted to review for Adventure Cyclist back in 2021.

The Pescadero was out of stock back then, and what I wound up with instead was a New Albion Privateer, which proved to be an excellent bike, so much so that I bought it after writing the review. And it remains the bike I ride most often.

But I’m really looking forward to throwing a leg over the top tube of this Pescadero.

I’m a few parts short of a party at the moment — the Racer centerpulls I ordered from Paul Components are taking the scenic route to El Rancho Pendejo, and I’m trying to decide whether to perform a complicated three-way transplant to put wheels on the Pescadero or just buy a brand-new wheelset from the good folks at Velocity USA.

I used an old pair of wheels on the Privateer — Mavic Open Pro rims and Shimano 600 hubs — and I could go that route again, robbing a similar wheelset from a Steelman Eurocross or the Soma Double Cross. But I like those bikes as they are.

And that three-way swap I mentioned would involve moving the Double Cross’s wheels to the Pescadero; shifting a Soma Saga’s wheels to the DC; and giving an unused Velocity Cliffhanger/LX wheelset to the Saga. Some redishing seems likely; brake adjustments are a certainty. What we shade-tree mechanics like to call “too much like work.”

So … yeah. We’ll see. No rush on wheels if a feller ain’t got no brakes. But all y’all will want to get busy if you want a good price on a new whip. Tell ’em The Dog sent you.