The RavX DrinkerX is essentially a koozie that attaches to your handlebars. It removes easily with a quick-release bracket and has an integrated belt buckle clip. It fits most cans, cups and bottles, and features a draw-string closure to hold your beverage securely in place. With the RavX DrinkerX, there's no need to interrupt your ritualistic morning stop at Bucky's Bean Bag for a steamy cup of coffee . . . and no reason to pass by The Liquor Barn on Goodwin on your way home.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
The RavX DrinkerX
Sultana Cycles encourages people to ride their bicycles . . . well, everywhere. Prescott is super-bike-friendly, and there's no reason not to rely on your bike for your commute to work, to pick up those few things you overlooked on your last trip to the supermarket, or to get some fresh air en route to happy hour on Whiskey Row. That's why we were happy to discover the RavX DrinkerX. No longer are you limited to beverages in plastic bottles!
The RavX DrinkerX is essentially a koozie that attaches to your handlebars. It removes easily with a quick-release bracket and has an integrated belt buckle clip. It fits most cans, cups and bottles, and features a draw-string closure to hold your beverage securely in place. With the RavX DrinkerX, there's no need to interrupt your ritualistic morning stop at Bucky's Bean Bag for a steamy cup of coffee . . . and no reason to pass by The Liquor Barn on Goodwin on your way home.
The RavX DrinkerX is essentially a koozie that attaches to your handlebars. It removes easily with a quick-release bracket and has an integrated belt buckle clip. It fits most cans, cups and bottles, and features a draw-string closure to hold your beverage securely in place. With the RavX DrinkerX, there's no need to interrupt your ritualistic morning stop at Bucky's Bean Bag for a steamy cup of coffee . . . and no reason to pass by The Liquor Barn on Goodwin on your way home.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
The Shopkeeper
We recently invited some passersby into the bike shop to check out our spot and enjoy a beverage while seated on an overturned 5-gallon bucket. "I can't sit down," Aaron says with a grin. "I have to stand back here and lean on the counter, because I'm the shopkeeper."
Interestingly, upon the announcement of the opening of Sultana Cycles, I was directed to this article on Outside Online. As it succinctly notes in the title: Angry bike mechanics are going extinct. And that sucks.
Aaron hates this article. "It sounds like a bike snob who wrote that crap," he says. This makes me laugh. Aaron is super-knowledgeable about bicycles and more than willing to propagate both the facts and his opinions. (If there's one thing I've picked up from my bike mechanic husband, it's that disc brakes suck -- especially the ones on my 29-er that have to be re-adjusted every time i gain or lose a pound.) However, he manages to get that across, fairly convincingly, without being angry or looking down his nose. It appears the angry bike mechanic was actually the Dr. Frankenstein who created the Frankenstein's monster* that is the snobbish author.
"Riding a bicycle is supposed to be fun," Aaron continues. "It's more fun to ride a bike that works because it's simple, good quality, and greased up on a regular basis. But it's not about what or where or who you ride with." This is the attitude you will get at Sultana Cycles -- more like a lecture from my dad, who will happily tell you how to do something "the right way," follow up with the but-do-what-you-want-because-I-know-you're-going-to-do-it-anyway remark, laugh, and go about his business. He even attempts to mute the eventual "I told you so" during the repeat lecture after I've done what I wanted to do anyway.
The bottom line: there's a happy medium between pandering and snobbery. We want your bike to be fun and functional. We want you to ask questions and be an informed consumer. And if you still want the clown-bike, we'll build it and send you happily on your way.
*Note the distinction, as the green monster reanimated from dead flesh with screws in his neck is so often mislabeled. Frankenstein is the mad scientist. The monster, tragically, remains nameless.
Interestingly, upon the announcement of the opening of Sultana Cycles, I was directed to this article on Outside Online. As it succinctly notes in the title: Angry bike mechanics are going extinct. And that sucks.Aaron hates this article. "It sounds like a bike snob who wrote that crap," he says. This makes me laugh. Aaron is super-knowledgeable about bicycles and more than willing to propagate both the facts and his opinions. (If there's one thing I've picked up from my bike mechanic husband, it's that disc brakes suck -- especially the ones on my 29-er that have to be re-adjusted every time i gain or lose a pound.) However, he manages to get that across, fairly convincingly, without being angry or looking down his nose. It appears the angry bike mechanic was actually the Dr. Frankenstein who created the Frankenstein's monster* that is the snobbish author.
"Riding a bicycle is supposed to be fun," Aaron continues. "It's more fun to ride a bike that works because it's simple, good quality, and greased up on a regular basis. But it's not about what or where or who you ride with." This is the attitude you will get at Sultana Cycles -- more like a lecture from my dad, who will happily tell you how to do something "the right way," follow up with the but-do-what-you-want-because-I-know-you're-going-to-do-it-anyway remark, laugh, and go about his business. He even attempts to mute the eventual "I told you so" during the repeat lecture after I've done what I wanted to do anyway.
The bottom line: there's a happy medium between pandering and snobbery. We want your bike to be fun and functional. We want you to ask questions and be an informed consumer. And if you still want the clown-bike, we'll build it and send you happily on your way.
*Note the distinction, as the green monster reanimated from dead flesh with screws in his neck is so often mislabeled. Frankenstein is the mad scientist. The monster, tragically, remains nameless.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Redline Metro 9: The Hip Urban Commuter
Sultana Cycles is almost ready for the soft opening in just two days. The shipments came in all on the same day and we came close to drowning in cardboard, newspaper, plastic wrap, and styrofoam peanuts. However, after a busy weekend of Windex, price tags, and a lot of coffee, it's starting to look like a real shop! Aaron put together Sultana Cycles' first bike last week: The Redline Metro 9.
The Metro 9 is a 9-speed commuter bike with a double-butted 4130 cromoly steel frame and straight-leg 4130 cromoly steel fork with eyelets for easy rack installation. The Sram X-5 shifters control an X-5 rear derailleur over a wide range 11-28 cassette. The durable Alex G-200 Aero Rim wheel set is sturdy and reliable for urban commuting. Can you tell I am reading from the brochure? I am confident that someone out there is reading this who understands what a sweet bike the Metro 9 really is.
Here, Aaron adjusts the front brake on the almost-complete masterpiece. (Thankfully I arrived with a clean t-shirt for my husband, who managed to spray green gook all over the bike shop trying to get Flat Attack through the Presta valves -- a messy but useful task in Arizona, where even the most unassuming plants will stick you, and your tubes.)
I took it for a spin around the parking garage and was ready to ride off into the sunset. The bike MOVES -- super smooth and with almost no effort. Aaron and I both added it to our wish list.
This particular Metro 9 only stayed with us a short time before we made our first bicycle sale -- Jim Ledbetter of The Ledbetter Law Firm in Cottonwood (aka My Boss) made the first purchase of a Redline Metro 9 three days before the doors opened!
Naturally, Jim's son Grant was on hand to make fun of his dad on his new bicycle. "That's a road bike," he says, a very distinct and recognizable my-dad-is-a-geek look on his face. "No," Jim retorts, "it's a hip urban commuter bike." (I think he may have stuck his tongue out at Grant and wiggled his hands by his ears too.)
And the crowd of attorneys and legal staff murmured in agreement, as Jim was clearly the picture of hipness. And this bike was clearly suited for someone in a pin-stripe suit with alligator wingtips in the toe clips. Plus, it's a chic shade of conservative navy blue with just a hint of sparkle and the fenders will ensure that Jim never arrives to work with road-spray on his back.
The Metro 9 is a 9-speed commuter bike with a double-butted 4130 cromoly steel frame and straight-leg 4130 cromoly steel fork with eyelets for easy rack installation. The Sram X-5 shifters control an X-5 rear derailleur over a wide range 11-28 cassette. The durable Alex G-200 Aero Rim wheel set is sturdy and reliable for urban commuting. Can you tell I am reading from the brochure? I am confident that someone out there is reading this who understands what a sweet bike the Metro 9 really is.
Here, Aaron adjusts the front brake on the almost-complete masterpiece. (Thankfully I arrived with a clean t-shirt for my husband, who managed to spray green gook all over the bike shop trying to get Flat Attack through the Presta valves -- a messy but useful task in Arizona, where even the most unassuming plants will stick you, and your tubes.)I took it for a spin around the parking garage and was ready to ride off into the sunset. The bike MOVES -- super smooth and with almost no effort. Aaron and I both added it to our wish list.
This particular Metro 9 only stayed with us a short time before we made our first bicycle sale -- Jim Ledbetter of The Ledbetter Law Firm in Cottonwood (aka My Boss) made the first purchase of a Redline Metro 9 three days before the doors opened!
Naturally, Jim's son Grant was on hand to make fun of his dad on his new bicycle. "That's a road bike," he says, a very distinct and recognizable my-dad-is-a-geek look on his face. "No," Jim retorts, "it's a hip urban commuter bike." (I think he may have stuck his tongue out at Grant and wiggled his hands by his ears too.)And the crowd of attorneys and legal staff murmured in agreement, as Jim was clearly the picture of hipness. And this bike was clearly suited for someone in a pin-stripe suit with alligator wingtips in the toe clips. Plus, it's a chic shade of conservative navy blue with just a hint of sparkle and the fenders will ensure that Jim never arrives to work with road-spray on his back.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Time Is A-Tickin'
I logged into the website today and the handy-dandy counter reminded me that there are only 12 days left until the doors of Sultana Cycles officially open for business. Egad! So much to do in less than 2 weeks, but we have been working hard. Aaron has been dutifully poring over the catalogs non-stop for the last week trying to develop an inventory. I haven't been quizzing him, but I bet that if he doesn't order exactly what you need, he will certainly know what's available to special order inside out and backwards.
I, on the other hand, have been brushing up on my old-skool-paint skillz (and actually found the spray-painter-function truly useful for the first time in my life) and, with one vital flash of inspiration on my ride over Mingus Mountain on Friday, developed a couple of initial logos for us to work with. This has also taken an immense amount of time but has been an interesting learning experience on how we view the world. It's amazing how divergent our imaginations go, even when we think we've agreed on a concept.
This week: The first order of bikes, parts and accessories goes in! We decide on a logo for the business cards. And we tackle signage -- sure to be riddled with its own challenges on the outside of a historic building.
I, on the other hand, have been brushing up on my old-skool-paint skillz (and actually found the spray-painter-function truly useful for the first time in my life) and, with one vital flash of inspiration on my ride over Mingus Mountain on Friday, developed a couple of initial logos for us to work with. This has also taken an immense amount of time but has been an interesting learning experience on how we view the world. It's amazing how divergent our imaginations go, even when we think we've agreed on a concept.
This week: The first order of bikes, parts and accessories goes in! We decide on a logo for the business cards. And we tackle signage -- sure to be riddled with its own challenges on the outside of a historic building.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
What's Behind Door #1?
So far, a gorgeous display case, the neon bud light sign, and a single well-loved (and untouchable) Bontrager are all that adorn the future home of Sultana Cycles. But out the door has gone a lot of dust, grime, burnt out light bulbs, and empty beer bottles...
Aaron and I have spent countless hours already cleaning, arranging, chasing down furniture, rearranging, brainstorming, rearranging, debating the merits of slat wall versus grid wall, rearranging ... you get the picture. Hopefully, most of the annoying things are done -- like dealing with the lease, the Department of Revenue, the City of Prescott, the bank, the phone company, etc. So now the fun can begin -- combing through hundreds of pages of bike-parts-magazines to develop an inventory of bicycles and parts! Luckily, Aaron has tons of experience as a bicyclist and mechanic and has kept up to date with the value and functionality of various bicycle parts. I, on the other hand, am useful only for an expert opinion on what is the shiniest.
Want to come by and watch the transformation? We are conveniently located off South Montezuma behind the Arts Prescott Gallery, or follow the neon beacon of the Whiskey Row Alley sign, just opposite the parking garage. Door #1 will be open when we are.
Aaron and I have spent countless hours already cleaning, arranging, chasing down furniture, rearranging, brainstorming, rearranging, debating the merits of slat wall versus grid wall, rearranging ... you get the picture. Hopefully, most of the annoying things are done -- like dealing with the lease, the Department of Revenue, the City of Prescott, the bank, the phone company, etc. So now the fun can begin -- combing through hundreds of pages of bike-parts-magazines to develop an inventory of bicycles and parts! Luckily, Aaron has tons of experience as a bicyclist and mechanic and has kept up to date with the value and functionality of various bicycle parts. I, on the other hand, am useful only for an expert opinion on what is the shiniest.
Want to come by and watch the transformation? We are conveniently located off South Montezuma behind the Arts Prescott Gallery, or follow the neon beacon of the Whiskey Row Alley sign, just opposite the parking garage. Door #1 will be open when we are.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Coming Soon -- July 2009 !!
Sultana Cycles, a retail and service bicycle shop, will open July 2009 -- as the first business located in the alley behind historic Whiskey Row in Prescott, Arizona.
Although a small business in a small-town alley may seem mundane to some, this shop is a ten-year dream in the making for my husband, Aaron Ruda. Aaron grew up on bicycles in the Prescott area and has worked as a bicycle mechanic at various shops in Northern Arizona for the past 10 years. I dug a school photo out of a box in his parents' garage recently -- a gap-toothed ten-year-old with a BMX t-shirt on.
I'll happily note that Aaron has 10 bicycles in the garage, some of which I am not allowed to touch. Road bikes, mountain bikes, BMX bikes ... even a little vintage turquoise deal he's been saving for a someday-daughter. He has years worth of adventures and scars.
In contrast, I learned how to ride a bicycle at the age of 23 while on vacation with my mother. She laughed at my many crashes, but I was happy so long as I had a basket with a toy dog in the front. After crashing Aaron's numerous times, I finally have a single bicycle to call my own -- a shiny blue 29-er -- and am comfortable enough on it to start jumping (small) curbs.
Despite our varied backgrounds, Aaron and I both believe that riding a bicycle should be fun. Yes, it's a piece of machinery that gets you to point B a little bit faster than walking and with a little less GHGs than driving. Yes, it's a tool to get you over the mountain or through the bowls and props to impress the skatepark girls. Yes, it has a function, just like your toothbrush, your salad-shooter, and that piece of rubber you keep in the kitchen drawer for opening jars. But at the end of the ride, get off your bicycle smiling. This is what we hope to share with you.
Although a small business in a small-town alley may seem mundane to some, this shop is a ten-year dream in the making for my husband, Aaron Ruda. Aaron grew up on bicycles in the Prescott area and has worked as a bicycle mechanic at various shops in Northern Arizona for the past 10 years. I dug a school photo out of a box in his parents' garage recently -- a gap-toothed ten-year-old with a BMX t-shirt on.
I'll happily note that Aaron has 10 bicycles in the garage, some of which I am not allowed to touch. Road bikes, mountain bikes, BMX bikes ... even a little vintage turquoise deal he's been saving for a someday-daughter. He has years worth of adventures and scars.
In contrast, I learned how to ride a bicycle at the age of 23 while on vacation with my mother. She laughed at my many crashes, but I was happy so long as I had a basket with a toy dog in the front. After crashing Aaron's numerous times, I finally have a single bicycle to call my own -- a shiny blue 29-er -- and am comfortable enough on it to start jumping (small) curbs.
Despite our varied backgrounds, Aaron and I both believe that riding a bicycle should be fun. Yes, it's a piece of machinery that gets you to point B a little bit faster than walking and with a little less GHGs than driving. Yes, it's a tool to get you over the mountain or through the bowls and props to impress the skatepark girls. Yes, it has a function, just like your toothbrush, your salad-shooter, and that piece of rubber you keep in the kitchen drawer for opening jars. But at the end of the ride, get off your bicycle smiling. This is what we hope to share with you.
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