Adventures in teaching,
riddles & conundrums;
essays like curiosity,
stories as photos & vitality art;
getting lost &
I’m Andrew Titus.
In 1991, when I was 21, after thrashing around in the woods of Marysville and Fredericton Junction for years riding whatever bike was going,…
I’ve spent a lot of time in the basement this winter and spring; tinkering, one might say, micro-adjusting, putting an almost insatiable curiosity to…
A couple of years ago my oldest sister Ellen passed away. I know that sounds blunt, but that’s how death rolls; no one ever goes like…
In this space I’ll be letting people have their say about the bike they ride — why they love it, maybe some myth, maybe just a lot of gushing. And who knows, maybe we’ll all learn a little about our humanity. Maybe, in our relationship to this most simple, elegant, and powerful of artful machines we will see something of ourselves rarely acknowledged otherwise.
I, like this bike, await its owner to return from whatever battle, or wait for a tree to sprout under it and carry it toward the heavens.
“I’ve never liked pink, but when I got it… like, just look at it! It’s SO SICK! I can’t imagine ever getting rid of it. It’s just the best bike.”
“…it’s simple, it’s my everything bike: commuter, gravel, cyclocross, everything.”
“…the bike, she’s a girl bike. I rode her across ICELAND and all around New Brunswick.”