As the temperature climbs and more and more water is required to replenish ounces lost en route, I wonder how much weight I’m hauling every time I pass this sign at a moving and storage company on Old Jefferson River Road.
Making good time on the way to Amethyst and Elkview, I pedal onto the scale. When a man in a baseball cap and beige cargo shorts steps out to greet me, I ask how sensitive the scale is, and whether or not it would work for the Bibliobike. He says it’s accurate within twenty pounds, “So it should.” He walks back inside. When he returns, he says, “Including you, a total of four hundred pounds.” No wonder.
If it wasn’t July in Georgia, the granite boulders scattered around this shaded spot at Park Place Apartments would be ideal places for folks to sit and read. Temperature and humidity likely contributed to last Thursday’s low turnout. (I passed the time with Jeff Vandermeer’s Annihilation, a little summertime science fiction.) Only three kids walked away with books, but I connected with a couple families.
A neighbor told the first visitor that I teach third grade at Chase Street. Her son happens to be a rising third grader who’s been living in another state. She said he’ll visit Athens next week, so I gave her my contact information, as well as our principal’s, so she can arrange a tour. I look forward to meeting him when I return next week. A familiar face at a new school eases some of the stress for a new student.
The first young reader to browse last Thursday will also be a third grader at Chase next year. His dad chose a bilingual (Spanish and English) phrase book, and his son selected one on rocks and minerals so he can preview some third grade science content. They asked if I’d be back next week, so hopefully they’ll spread the word.
As of Thursday, I’ve made initial visits to this summer’s three donation spots, so the delivery schedule is now set. Check the widget on the right side of the homepage for delivery locations and times (or scroll to the bottom of the page, if you’re on a mobile device).
Compared to the ride to Kathwood, pedaling to the corner of Amethyst and Elkview was twice as far, much hotter and more uphill. Anticipating said challenges, I brought an insulated bag with freezer packs and frozen washcloths to cool down, and a double insulated water bottle that keeps ice frozen when the heat index surpasses one hundred degrees.
Situated among a series of duplexes many former students call home, a concrete slab offers a fairly flat parking spot. It took a bit for folks to brave the heat, so at first I worried nobody would show. I was wrong.
Sixteen people visited, including parents and grandparents who selected books for young family members. For his granddaughter, one man chose The Mesa Verde Cliff Dwellers, a graphic novel about archeologist Isabel Soto’s adventures while exploring Colorado’s Cliff Palace ruins. When a curious mom emerged from her home, she walked over and chose a book about animals with vibrant illustrations for her eight week old daughter.
Sisters took younger siblings by the hand and helped them choose. While one middle schooler’s little brother browsed, she said, “I was a Tree Frog. I went to Chase from pre-K through fifth grade. It’s a great school.” She asked about former teachers, and we chatted about favorites like Mr. Sugiuchi and Mrs. Dean, who still teach there.
Kids frequently request specific titles and topics. One of the first was from a young reader who I recognized as a writer because she was wearing a Camp Red Clay t-shirt.
“What types of books have you read in the past year?” I asked.
“Some about mental illness. And poetry too.”
Unfortunately, I didn’t have any books on either topic, so she selected My Name is Celia, a bilingual picture book about Celia Cruz, and a chapter book called The Rescue, about a dog whisperer.
Other kids requested mysteries, Harry Potter, and Roald Dahl. So once home, I searched through bags and boxes of donated books, and found two titles from the Harry Potter series, and Dahl’s The Magic Finger (a personal favorite). For the girl interested in poetry and mental illness, I found Who Was Edgar Allen Poe, and a book of poetry I’ve shared with students over the years called Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices. As for mental illness, the DSM 5 might be a rabbit hole too advanced for a fifteen year old. If any of you have suggestions for books about mental illness geared toward children, please let me know.
I’ll return to Amethyst and Elkview next Tuesday at five with a handful of requested books. Hopefully some of the same readers will join me again.
Summer book deliveries began at four on the first Wednesday of July. Two miles each way, pedal power lugged the bike, trailer, umbrella, two water bottles, a ten by ten tarp (thirty percent chance of afternoon thunderstorms), four bungee cords, and around fifty books split between four panniers and the trailer’s lower storage compartment in an attempt to distribute the weight evenly, while keeping the center of gravity as low as possible. The rig is a hoss.
Once on Prince Avenue, I started pedaling along the sidewalk. That didn’t last long because not all curb cuts are created the same…
It’s doubtful that the ones in front of the old Navy School can safely accommodate wheelchairs, so forget trying to weave the Bibliobike in and out of them. Where some streets intersect, the cuts spit me out into oncoming traffic. And at the bottom of a steep hill in front of a large granite boulder, the sidewalk ended under three inches of standing water. I’d had enough. So I dismounted and walked the Bibliobike through the puddle, waited for a break in traffic, then crossed the street and joined the flow of cars and trucks barrelling west.
With few vehicles and a mellow downhill grade, Old Jefferson River Road eased some stress after navigating Prince Avenue’s steady stream of traffic. This was the setting of a serendipitous chance encounter with a woman who stuck her arm out of the driver’s side window and flagged me down. The arm belongs to Melaney Smith, who said she’d heard about the Bibliobike and introduced herself as the founder of Books for Keeps, an organization that supplied much of the literature I was hauling. She asked if she could follow me to Kathwood Apartments to take some photos, so Melaney’s car became the lead in an impromptu motorcade escort up and down the hill on Kathwood Drive, and around a couple blind curves on the way to the apartment complex.
Melaney contributed more than photos. She also helped set everything up, which was the first time the books were arranged and displayed.
A kind woman named Blanca and her boys were the first visitors. We talked about choosing “good-fit books,” while they searched for just the right one.
You could tell literacy is important to Blanca by the way she helped her family select books, recruited nearby kids, and sat and read with them on a shady bench. She also offered to donate books when I return. Her oldest son chose Tom Angelberger’s Origami Yoda, even though he had never attempted paper folding before (childhood tragedy averted). I used a Bibliobike flyer to show him how to make a perfect square and agreed to bring some proper origami paper with me next week.
Rinne Allen is a photographer of many things beautiful, and a super supportive mother of a former student/old soul/voracious reader. She joined me at Kathwood with her two sons to chat and witness the inaugural Bibliobike visit. As clouds began building in the west, a collective effort to pack everything up began organically. Rinne’s son held the bike while I reconnected the trailer. Nigeria – the Bibliobike superfan of the day who kept coming back to get books for her siblings – and her older brother made sure all the clasps were closed. We double checked the lights to make sure they were on and flashing, and I explained that I like to keep them on what I call “epileptic mode,” to ensure highest visibility once back on the road. In all, fourteen kids came and went between five and seven. Nigeria gently placed the helmet on my head, and I was on my way.
Cruising the school bus loop provided a feel for how the rig handles, which is quite smooth. One of the first rides around town was a surprise visit this morning to Avid Books in Five Points to thank Rachel Watkins for her social media wizardry.
I passed out fliers in three neighborhoods yesterday afternoon, and talked with residents about the project. Curious and welcoming families discussed optimal days and times. At Kathwood Apartments, a father named Roberto offered to spread the word and said he knows a family who’ll likely donate books to the cause.
So deliveries begin next week. The (best laid) plan is to visit one locale per day at six in the evening so parents who work during the day will be home, along with kids who attend camps or daycare elsewhere. Here’s the tentative schedule:
When Chris Sugiuchi, Chase Street’s go to for everything STEM, first heard about the success of the GoFundMe campaign, he quickly reached out to kindred spirits in the community. One such spirit is Robert Beck, a Chase parent and experienced woodworker. He kindly offered to build the Bibliobike. And despite my negligible experience beyond skateboard ramps in middle and high school, Robert also invited me to help.
Robert founded Loki Design in 1996. At his nondescript shop in Comer, Georgia, he juggles residential and commercial furniture, cabinetry and millwork jobs. On one end of the shop, a stack of white custom cabinets with silver hinges almost touches the ceiling. And on the other, a four hundred pound chunk of vintage piano guts, destined to become a table, rests on a cart – a relic that would pique the curiosity of any avid maker.
Our process began with a discussion of modifications to the original design, some aesthetic and others utilitarian. For example, Robert chose Baltic birch wood because it’s stronger and lighter. He also upgraded the metal parts to stainless steel, which will last longer when exposed to the elements. Other tweaks happened organically while moving through the different stages.
I had no idea summer would begin with an apprenticeship. At each step, Robert modeled the technique(s), then set me loose. Naturally, I was nervous at times. I think he could sense it because he simply responded, “You’ll find your way.”
In addition to patiently answering tons of rookie questions and using jokes to ease the stress when I made mistakes, Robert calculated measurements and cut the pieces. He taught me how to use a router to cut rabbets (not a typo) and dadoes, which are essentially slots.
Robert also taught me how to smooth the wood to prevent future splinters with the most sophisticated sander I’ll probably ever use. The incredibly ergonomic blobject features a built-in vacuum and Bluetooth compatibility. If stolen, he could turn it off remotely with his phone (though it’s doubtful Robert has enabled the feature). The sander and I have spent quite a bit of time together, and Robert and I have now surpassed thirty hours of work. Here’s an overly simplified breakdown of our process so far:
Rout rabbets and dadoes.
Dry fit parts together.
Excessively clamp pieces together.
Attach latches and hinges.
Take apart three main parts/shelves.
Sand corners, edges and smudges.
During math each year, we discuss the importance of attending to precision. I wish I could bring my students to Robert’s shop to model what that looks like in action beyond the abstract.
So we’re nearing the end of construction, and in Robert’s words, “We’ll get there.”
The Bibliobike video was shot and edited by Joanna Brooks on an unseasonably warm afternoon in late February. Music includes Japancakes’ Vocode-Inn, Dinosaur Jr.’s cover of Just Like Heaven and Maserati’s Show Me the Season.