Collective turns old bikes into new hope
The basement below the First Baptist Church on East Wallace Avenue in Coeur d’Alene had a bite of icy air swirling inside. Tom Morgan, dressed in khaki cargo shorts, didn’t mind. He was too busy bouncing from one bicycle to the next; his kinetic energy kept him warm.
“Chains are always the first thing people look at,” he said, standing beside a giant plastic bin of spare parts. “People always need to work on their chains.”
How Morgan found the room to jump from work station to work station was a miracle of physics. The giant concrete room — and every other room in the basement that serves as headquarters for the Lake City Bicycle Collective — overflowed with bikes. Dirt bikes. Mountain bikes. Touring bikes. Road bikes. Beginners’ bikes. There was far more metal and tire and sweat than available floor.
Which was just fine for Morgan.
“It gives us something to do,” he said, “something to shoot for.”
Morgan and the other members of the collective already have enough inspiration to keep them motivated. The chilly basement — its back door open, music bouncing inside — serves as a station for volunteers, people in need and kids looking to learn to come together to fill what the Coeur d’Alene resident says is an overlooked need. Collecting bikes from the community—through donations to the Collective or through abandoned bicycles left for dead throughout the area — has become a full-time job.
“The reason we do this,” he said, “is to harvest the parts from the bikes. Most bikes usually have too much broken down, so we harvest what we can. We’d rather recycle the pieces than throw away the junk.”
The team of volunteers then rebuilds bicycles from scratch into new creations, presents to be handed out to children who need something to ride and to the homeless to help them get around. In 2017, the Collective handed out approximately 50 bikes to area children; in 2018, the number grew to 73. This year, Morgan said, the hope was to hand out 100.
“People ask me what it’s like to give these bikes out to kids who need them for Christmas,” Morgan said. “I always have to stop them and say, ‘No, this is a year-round operation.’”
Morgan said the need seems to increase as the holidays approach, which is why he is re-instituting a program meant to involve volunteers, those in need and new riders while solving perhaps the Collective’s biggest challenge. Starting tonight and likely running every Tuesday through Christmas, residents will have a chance to take part in a plan to strip down the ocean of bicycles still on the Collective’s radar.
“We call it Take Apart Tuesdays,” he said. “We get everybody together, and we strip down all the bikes that need it and put the usable parts where they belong. It helps the process of rebuilding go a lot faster.”
Take Apart Tuesdays are but one way people can help. Anyone with old bikes lying around the yard can donate. Still, the biggest help Morgan said the Collective provides isn’t what the organization receives, but what it gives.
“We have a philosophy here,” he said. “You can use whatever you need. We have low-cost parts and low-cost bikes. We usually can’t give them away for free. But if you need a bike, or you need to work on a bike, you can come in, and we’ll help by giving you what you need. But you need to participate in the process.”
Retired Post Falls resident Tom Van Valkenburg, Jr., said he comes to the Collective for the bonds he sees early and often when he steps through the door.
“What I think will be useful,” he said, “is giving people an opportunity to be part of the solution, by giving people a chance to take part in their own solutions. We’re happy to give here, but taking part in your own problem and getting involved to solve it? There’s no equivalent to that.”
He added another perk of coming to the Collective can’t be bought or sold.
“Just the comradery here,” he said. “Just working with other people in the community on something we all love: That’s what’s fantastic about this place.”
That often means rolling up your sleeves and getting to work, something Lee Marvin Allen said was the most important role a Christian can play.
“Look at this bike,” he said as he hovered over a rebuilt Schwinn. “I never had a bike like this as a kid. But some kid is going to get this. Some kid is going to be able to have some freedom and ride around. Remember when you were a kid? Remember when you got your first bike? That’s what this is for somebody. And guess what: They get to experience Jesus’s love, even if they don’t know it.”
When Allen is asked about his living situation, he shied away, breaking eye contact and mumbling beneath his breath. Born and raised in Coeur d’Alene and a member of the Tribe, he didn’t say how long he’s been homeless. He lives off Centennial Trail, somewhere on or near Tubbs Hill. He’s been arrested and booked for trespassing on multiple occasions, a common problem in an uncommon life. He speaks low and quiet when asked about himself, but the minute he talked about the work he puts into the Collective, his demeanor, attention and pride immediately swelled.
“I get to take part in Christian love,” Allen said, “and Christian love is Jesus’s love. I’m the happiest person in the world when I come in here. You know why? Guess what: Jesus loves me. That’s why.”
Every Saturday for the last few months, Allen showed up like clockwork at noon on Saturdays to help build bikes for children. This Saturday, however, he was a half-hour late.
“It’s hard,” Morgan said, “because when you live your life struggling every day ... We take so many things for granted. I don’t know how to get a hold of him. I don’t have a number for him. I don’t know where he’s staying. I don’t even know if he’s still here. He’s been coming in right at noon every Saturday ... I’m scared for him, because I don’t know what happened.”
Once Allen arrived, however, the smile on his face disarmed the most concerned friend in his life as he pointed to the shiny green bike he rode in on.
“See that bike?” Allen said, pointing to his touring bike as he polished the wheels on the kids’ bike in front of him. “I built that bike, and pretty soon, I’m giving it someone who needs it. I get to pass Jesus’s love onto someone else ... I’m in love with this place,” Allen said. “You know why? It gives us structure. It gives us peace. Kids need structure. This gives them a place with structure.”
Morgan concurred. “I’ve told people from all walks of life,” he said, “you’re welcome to whatever you need. All you have to do is ask for it. Don’t take it; just ask for it, and if we can spare it, it’s yours.”
But the gift Morgan and Allen both agreed the Collective really gives is the embrace of a shared community experience.
“We just ask that, if you need something, you have to give something back,” Morgan explained. “You need a part for your bike? No problem: Just give some time back. Help us put together some bikes. Help the community around you ... We’re just asking people who need help to give back in return. That’s all.”
Those in need of a bicycle or who know someone in need of a bike can reach out to CASA, the Boys and Girls Club, the child’s local school staff and the Department of Health and Welfare. To volunteer for Take Apart Tuesdays, to donate to the Lake City Bicycle Collective or to seek assistance, call (208) 740-1502.