More on Bikes: Corktown Cycles

A couple weeks ago, during my search for the hottest urban decay and stumbling on--what I didn't know then, but know now--the Imagination Station (more on the IS soon), my friend Chris and I found our way to Corktown. As we drove, I noticed cyclists riding in actual bike lanes! That's right, Corktown is one of the first places to paint safety lines for the car-less (not to be confused with "careless") commuters. (Cyclists = car-less, drivers = careless?) I pointed them out to my decay porn photographer and he informed me of a documentary he recently watched that was all about cycling in Detroit. Then he told me that he thinks he spotted one of our old friends, and cycling enthusiast, on the documentary. 

"I think I saw Jordan on there," he said.

And sure enough, it was Jordan.

(Jordan Bentley: owner of Corktown Cycles; thrower of some really fun parties)

 After we found out where his shop was located, we decided to drop by. And after taking a few wrong turns down a few one way streets, we made it to Corktown Cycles.

(The handmade sign is artsy and welcoming)

We pulled up to a half a dozen restored Schwinns and other old, but nice looking and, thanks to Jordan, functional bikes chained to the chain-link fence. For cyclists into vintage equipment, the eye candy begins before one steps foot into the store. 

(A few of Corktown Cycles inventory, patiently waiting to be purchased)

We walked through the gate, toward the shop, and were greeted by his girlfriend Cherry, their black lab (forgot his/her name) and their small-but-extremely-enthusiastic-and/or-protective west highland terrier (forgot that name too). Cherry remembered Chris and I and let us in. Jordan, out on business, joined us several minutes later and gave us the grand tour. 

Corktown Cycles looks wonderful. It is in an old house which Jordan is restoring along with the bicycles. The shop was filled with old but usable--sometimes still shiny!--parts. A dozen or so bikes were for sale, many of which are a mash-up of many different bikes. Old trek mountain bikes with two different brakes and two different wheels, all perfectly rideable and, despite mismatching parts, looked great--desirable even. 

Old cycling jerseys--which, by the looks, were mainly from the late 80s/early 90s, with splashes of hurt-your-eye neon--hung like art on every wall. Dozens more hang on a rack immediately left of the entrance. I spent a good 20 minutes rifling through the old jerseys, admiring their bright shine. They may be old, but they were certainly excited to be up for sale again. Many of these jerseys, with their exuberant and fast-looking colors, slightly resembled a busy downtown at night.

    

(A picture of downtown Hong Kong at night)

and...

(A typical cycling jersey from the 90s era)

See? Pretty similar, eh?... 

Anyway, Corktown Cycles is helping Rescue Detroit (cheesy tagline), and certainly helping revive the oldest neighborhood thereof. So stop into the shop, check out the jerseys, and buy a wonderfully restored bicycle. While you're out there, check out Jordan's award winning Raleigh restoration (a beautiful bike which, unfortunately, neither Chris or I snapped a photo). Staffed by incredible people with a fun and important purpose, Corktown Cycles is the "newest bike shop in Detroit's oldest neighborhood" to help get your cranks spinning. 

(The small-but-extremely-enthusiastic-and/or-protective west highland terrier--name unknown--staunchly protecting Jordan's power drill)

Also, check out the cycling documentary by clicking here. The Corktown Cycles segment starts at 7:30. 

Cycling and Detroit: Experiencing the City from a Saddle.

A city is best experienced from a bicycle. In a car, we might get a quick glimpse of a city's buildings and businesses, but passing through at even 40 miles per hour leaves the city's most intimate features a slight blur, if anything at all. When walking, we cannot cover enough ground to appreciate more than a a half a dozen blocks. Covering Detroit by foot would be difficult at best.

On a bicycle, covering ground is easy, efficient, and free. Cruising anywhere between 8 and 18 miles per hour allows for the best sight seeing possible. Also, touring the city on a bike extends more style-points than touring the city with an expensive and goofy looking segway:

(Lame)

When I was invited on a tour of the city from a friend, I promptly accepted, and made sure to check the "I'm Attending" link on the events Facebook page.

The ride took us through many different areas in Detroit. From neighborhoods featuring alluring decay porn, to the (probably) Heidelberg inspired Disneyland In Hamtramck, to many great bars, and ultimately to the best gyro I've ever had (and I'm half Greek, so that should count for something... right?). Anyway, here are some of the highlights of the trip. 

The Thunderdome

Detroit's Dorais Velodrome was built in '69, hosted a bunch of professional races, and was abandoned in the early 90s. While this track suffers many cracks, blemishes, and bruises in the form of graffiti, it has recently been rediscovered. Thanks to The Mower Gang, a group of Detroiters who donate their time to thrash their way through unruly brush that swallows many of Detroit's parks whole, leaving them looking wonderful and usable, we are able to enjoy these parks. The Mower Gang found Dorais Park and got to work. 

(Thank you Mower Gang, for making this slab of concrete a source of smiles)

We rode and raced and laughed until we were all out of breath. The Mower Gang Rescues Detroit, one weed-whacked park at a time.

Disneyland in Hamtramck

We continued through Hamtramck (the little city, surrounded by Detroit and filled with amazing cuisine) and stumbled upon a Heidelberg like gem. Set in Hamtramck resident Dmytro Szylak's backyard was a slew of crazy looking stuff, which emits Disneyland-esque vibes. The collage of things is a great piece of eye candy in the city's back alleys. 

(My good friend Jenna, surprised and happy at Disneyland in Hamtramck)

(One of many pieces in the yard. This one is a... something... or other...)

The Dequindre Cut and River Walk Greenways

After leaving Disneylang in Hamtramck and enjoying a quick, early morning brew at The New Dodge Lounge, we spun our way over to the The Dequindre Cut (click on this link to "like" their page). The Dequindre Cut is an urban greenway, offering pedestrians and cyclists a little over a mile of perfectly paved trail.

(Riding through the Dequindre Cut)

(Unfortunately, this was the best picture of some of the street art I could capture while riding. For more pictures, click here.)

The trail passes by elegant street art and leads directly into the River Walk. Detroit's River Walk extends over five miles alongside the Detroit River. It is an awesome stretch of trail.

(Colin shows his thumb in approval of the River Walk)

The Golden Fleece

We continued on through the Cut and the Walk and stopped for lunch at The Golden Fleece. This place has been serving Detroit's best gyros for decades. The gyro meat was slowly roasted over an open fire and made the entire restaurant, and most of the block, smell like deliciously spiced lamb. 

(The group at The Golden Fleece, giddy and excited and ready to eat)

As we all cheered our beers, Zach--a friend and coworker--explained the meaning of cheers:

(While difficult to hear, the information is invaluable-ish)

The Detroit Crit

After lunch we slowly pedaled our full bellies a few blocks to watch the Detroit Crit: a pro-level bike race. It was intense. While we were averaging amateur speeds in the mid teens, these professionals (which were all riding bikes that cost at least as much as their cars, if not more) were averaging easily over 20 mph. They whizzed by us as we cheered and watched in awe. 

(The racers, rounding a turn)

Motor City Brew Works

We brought the day to a close with micro-brewed beer from Motor City Brew Works. My only disappointment was that I was too full of gyro to enjoy one of their delicious thin-crust pizzas. I guess smelling them was good enough. The crisp and citrusy wheat beer made the heat of the sun tolerable and my smile wider. This was a good day. 

(The group on the roof at Motor City Brew Works. And one of the riders trying a sit-down version of "Walk Like An Egyptian")

Seeing Detroit from a bike is the best way to see the city. With every stop we made I saw nouns everywhere participating in the rescue of Detroit. So grab your bike and your crotch protecting shorts and head down for a perfectly paced tour of Detroit. With the help of amazing businesses, beautiful greenways, and inspired people, we can all help Rescue Detroit.*

(The Ren Cen welcomes us to the heart of Detroit)

*Yes, I know how cheesy the "Rescue Detroit" bits are, and I don't care. 

Decay Porn and Urban Spelunking: Baby, Spread Those Windows Wide Broken.

(Found in an abandoned/burned out house. Photo Credit: Chris Wood)

It's hard to deny the amount of wreckage in Detroit. Leave Campus Martius in any direction and it seems like every other building is burned out and/or unoccupied. Pieces of walls and shards of glass surround whatever building has fallen into a coma. Each one of these buildings help Detroit look like it has taken a blow from a giant shotgun, making it easy to see how people could easily mistake decaying buildings for a decaying city. Photographer Sean Hemmerle did a splendid job of making Detroit look like a ghost town with his The Remains of Detroit photo essay he shot for TIME magazine. Thus, making Hemmerle the Hugh Hefner of Decay Porn.

 

Decay Porn--the act of photographing, glorifying, and being aroused by wreckage and  abandoned buildings--is a new form of pornography. Detroit is a goldmine for Decay Pornographers such as Hemmerle.

So, instead of scoffing at the idea of only focusing on Detroit's decaying buildings, I decided to focus on how decay actually helps. Here it goes: Detroit needs people to occupy its borders. It needs people to shop, eat, lounge, and, most importantly, visit, for without this, the city cannot breathe. People are the red blood cells of a living economy, and as such, we need to carry as much oxygen to Detroit as possible. And if one of Detroit's main attractions is super-sexy broken windows and bikini waxed buildings, stripped of everything they once had brings people to the city, then more power to it. Decay pornographers: bring it on.

I then decided to indulge in the dirty world of Decay Porn. I phoned my friend Chris (the photo credit guy), hopped on 75 (right after a quick Tim Horton's breakfast), and headed into the city. To begin, we started with the Jenna Jameson of Decay Porn: Michigan Central Station. Just like Jameson, this place has done it all. From amateur decay porn photo shoots, to full on Michael Bay-style porn. Here is the station today:

(Michigan Central Station, looking raunchy as ever. Photo Credit: Chris Wood)

The building, despite the broken windows and crappy graffiti, is beautiful. The architecture can keep eyes busy for days. I have to admit, decay porn is kind of cool. Here's a naughty closeup:

(Beautifully crafted eye candy. Photo Credit: Chris Wood)

We left the train station and made it about two blocks before finding our next hussy. Just around the corner was an old burned out house. However, while this house was burned out and provocatively decaying, someone (or some people) chose this house as their canvas. The house, probably inspired by the Heidelberg Project, was covered with art:

(Just around the corner from Michigan Central Station, this find was hot. Photo Credit: Chris Wood)

Turned on by the missing doors, we decided to enter: urban spelunking. We found more art, and it was beautiful. We were almost as exited as this guy. 

(Buildings, painted cleverly inside of the abandoned house. Photo Credit: Chris Wood)

This house is a perfect metaphor for Detroit: beautiful art and incredible things to see surrounded by destruction. Despite the houses risqué condition, we were still excited to see everything it had to offer. 

Let's take, for example, San Francisco, a beautiful city on an incredible bay. This city would be lucky to have a few flirtatiously fragmented buildings to photograph. If we were to visit San Francisco, we would know going into the city that we would see interesting things: cool art, fun things to do, etc. Knowing it exists takes away some of the thrill. Detroit is just like the house pictured above. Outsiders looking in only notice charred ash, broken glass, and a manipulative ex-mayor. However, step inside Detroit and one finds a whole world of beauty. This type of hidden art is infinitely more thrilling to discover. Those who are able to look past shattered windows and splintered wood will find a city sitting up after being knocked down. 

So, Decay Pornographers, bring your tight pants and fancy cameras and come to the city and photograph the titillating train station, and when you're done, eat at Slow's BBQ just around the corner, and help Rescue Detroit. 

(More art from the house mentioned earlier. Photo Credit: Chris Wood)

 

Taxis in Detroit: All A Board.

 

Art, as discussed in Monday's Post, helps our city's image. Fascinated eyes have difficulty wandering from the beauty of the Ultimate Sports Mural. The many intricacies are impressive. The colors of That Really Cool One on the Side of That one Building at Grand River and Brush is just as fun, with its many cascading colors, sucking in our attention from afar by looking like an enormous accident in Home Depot's "paint" section.

However, these are only two works of art, and the city is filled with art. If one thinks a building with color dripping down the side is impressive, then one must hang on to one's pants, because The Heidelberg Project will not only knock one's socks off, but probably one's pants as well. 

The Heidelberg Project, founded in 1986 by ambitious artist, art philosopher, and overall nice guy Tyree Guyton, began as an experiment. First, he polka-dotted his entire childhood house. From there, the project exploded. In fact, most of the art looks like it exploded. For example:

"Noah's Ark," as interpreted by the Heidelberg.

"Noah's Ark," pictured above, looks like an explosion of of teddy bears and color. If a truck full of stuffed animals collided with an old boat full of paint, this installation would be the aftermath. Nevertheless, it's cool to look at, and that is the important part of the Heidelberg; installations as eye candy. The explosion of art doesn't stop here. In fact, it keeps going for an entire street, and then some more. 

 One of my favorites, and I'm not sure why.

This piece, representing... ...time... ...or something like that, is an optical explosion of clocks. If a broken clock is right twice a day, then a painted clock should also be right twice a day. If this is the case, this house-of-clocks is right some 24 times a day. One may need no wrist watch at the Heidelberg. If he/she want one, Guyton, if available, will surely paint one on, making him/her a living installation. (That last line was complete speculation.) 

When asked what these paintings mean and how they are created, Guyton simply answers "I made them up." This seems to be the perfect explanation for the project: stuff, painted, broken, and set in a yard, becomes art. At first it seems silly, but when visited, the Heidelberg has a different effect. When I first walked down that polka-dotted road, I felt a sense of joy. The art is mostly old, painted junk, yet I couldn't help but smile and look around at everything like I was five years old. 

Photo-documentation of the polka-dot walk

I even got to pose with a friendly tin man looking installation.

Thanks for the photo Bryce.

For a brief moment, the touring class were enchanted by music from a broken, and, of course, painted piano.

Professor John Freeman and fellow student Jon Werber, jamming Heidelberg Style.

(By turning the camera sideways at 0:08 seconds, I've achieved a more artsy documentation of the brief jam session). I even saw my first taxi cab in Detroit! 

Plywood Taxis: the closest thing Detroit has to public transportation.

It is easy to see this art as merely junk. It can also be difficult to understand. But if we take a step backwards and out of our preconceived notions and egos, it becomes easy for us to see how wonderful the Heidelberg project really is. Sure, there are old tires hanging on metal posts and grocery carts stuck up in trees (which are actually fun to look at, and leave everyone wondering, how, and why, did those get up there?), but the project   means more than we can understand. The Heidelberg project as been described as a "shot of adrenaline" for the city. It gives people (and suburbanites like myself) something to come down and see; to experience and take part of; to feel like our city isn't just a rusty decay of hopelessness. By simply polka-dotting a house, and a road, and trees, and whatever Heidelberg participants feel like polka-dotting that day, they are reviving the image of the city. (Plus, what other city could get away with a polka-dotted neighborhood? Surely Chicago's Lincoln Park wouldn't allow it. It's a Detroit thing, and it is like a little mushroom trip, only without the drugs). Go see the Heidelberg for yourself, and experience the feeling that painted junk can evoke. Experience the joy that comes with simply walking down Heidelberg Street. The Heidelberg Project, Tyler Guyton, and the ideas and ideologies spawned from this creation are helping Rescue Detroit, one piece of painted junk after another. 

   

Aesthetic Rescue: Turning Heads and Lifting Spirits.

Color is a powerful thing. Reds can excites us, blues and greens can chill us out, and pinks and yellows will pretty much annoy everyone. Artists spend hours perfecting palettes for our optical pleasure, carefully crafting each blend like a surgeon with a paintbrush (not to be confused with a sturgeon with a paintbrush, which might prove far more entertaining). 

With its run down buildings acting as giant canvases, Detroit offers a perfect and public space for master muralists to spray something beautiful to tease the eyes of passersby. These murals offer a financially, morally, and aesthetically decaying city a picture of hope. It's as if Detroit is screaming "I'm still here!"  Driving south on I-75, the first one reveals itself in all of its intricate glory at exit 54. On the side of the Russell Industrial Building lies the greatest sports mural of all:

On the side of this building, our four major sports mascots collide into one bizarre and pretty cool looking thing. When I first noticed the mural from the highway, I though "oh, cool." However, when I took a closer gander (pretentious for "look"), I noticed many intricate details, all of which were exciting in their own. I stood    for a few minutes with a couple friends (my British buddy, who kept talking about the "colour," and his artsy wife) admiring the work and detail this mural offered. This mural and its beautiful colour and design is a simple way for our rusty city to enhance its image. It's like bubblegum for our eyes.

The next mural, or waterfall of colour, was a short pole vault away at Grand River and Brush. This one looked like someone painted their LSD experience onto bricks:

By taking the picture at an angle, I've made the picture even artsier and more acid-trip like... 

(right?)

The mural--which also looked like Rainbow Bright after one too many PBR's and American Spirits tossed her skittles overboard--looks as cool up close as it does far away. From afar, it looks like a constant toxic waterfall (and I mean "toxic" in the best way possible), spilling into the streets and chasing our cars. From up close, it looks like the same thing, except closer. Here is another cool picture:

(If you turn your computer 90 degrees counterclockwise, or your head 90 degrees clockwise, the picture will make more sense.) 

One might think that the unorganized waterfall of colour looks silly; that it doesn't actually help the cities image. I say it does. Adding an immense colour palette to our city will only help it. And it's cheap. And it's fun. And it's for everyone. 

Murals like these are like life vests for our sinking city, tossed out for all to hug.    

Greetings, and other stuff like that.

Welcome to Rescue Detroit, a blog dedicated to finding and experiencing the people, places and things that are feeding our hungover city aspirin, water, and a good, greasy breakfast.

Ideas and inspirations--from art to artists, cuisines to chefs, parks to planners--will all be experienced, and as the stories spill onto the keyboard and into this blog, we will all see and experience, together, the revitalization of our Great Motor City.

Hopefully the reader(s) of this blog will feel as inspired as I am to change the way we think about Detroit; to experience the best the city has to offer, and to share it with everyone we know. (I'd like to share Slows baked mac 'n' cheese with people every single day). Through a deep immersion into our cities best, we can Rescue Detroit.

-Baby.