Admit it, you're curious: You've seen drunk tourists in boat shoes rolling around on a weird contraption that looks like a playhouse welded to a bike rack, and you've wondered if it's any fun. Do Portlanders ride that thing? Where does it go? It looks big—is it hard to pedal? So you book a pair of $26 seats for Saturday morning. You show up at the headquarters for BrewCycle (1323 NW 16th St., 971-400-5950, brewcycleportland.com) just before 11 am. You pedal over to the first stop, Lucky Lab on Northwest Quimby Street. "Wow, you guys are sober," says the bartender. "Must be your first stop." Sipping a pint on the patio on this warm and sunny day, you soon learn you are surrounded by Canadians. They wear designer sunglasses and Patagonia fleece. Two riders have brought small dogs in little mesh suitcases. The sober pilot, who casually steers the lumbering beast as pedalers wheeze, offers the Canadians a stereo cord, allowing them to soundtrack the ride from a phone. They choose a song called "How We Do (Party)" by someone named Rita Ora. The Canadians happily accept advice on where to ride next. Everyone agrees on Deschutes in the Pearl District, and then Rogue, where you are disappointed to find there are not large tables or drink specials set aside for you. The Rogue waitress brings you a sampler tray with the wrong beers and doesn't check back until you've finished them, but makes up for it by bringing you a second tray. You can't complain.
Culture editor Martin Cizmar writes about food, beer, jam bands, country music, gangsta rap, bikes, cannabis and the outdoors. He’s originally from a smallish city in the part of Ohio that was once part of Connecticut and has worked as a reporter at dailies in Michigan, Virginia and Arizona and as music editor at the alt-weekly in Phoenix. He’s a passionate advocate for unfettered access to public lands, the repatriation of Oregon wolves, increased urban density and good machaca burritos. He is unwelcome in the cities of Salem and Lake Oswego.