We're big fans of Sopo, something you might've noticed as this isn't the first time we've covered these guys. Click here for a feature story done about a year ago, and here for a previous interview with Rachael Spiewak. And read below for a new one, where you will learn about Sopo's humble beginnings, bike shops as a thesis and the strong US bicycle community.

Holly Lang/Pine Magazine: Can you tell us about Sopo?

Rachael Spiewak/Sopo Bicycle Cooperative: A little history..

Bean Summer, the booking guy at Lenny's, came to one of our first meetings, when the shop was only an idea, and we were a crowd of 50 people cramming ourselves into Jay's living room to shout at each other about it. Bean offered to help us throw a benefit party, and that was the first Broken Hearts and Bicycle Parts. The Wheels of Fire messenger crew helped us organize a 10-mile dash from Little Five Points to Downtown, back up Edgewood, through Cabbagetown, and ending at Lenny's for a show that featured about eight bands, including Light Pupil Dilate and Elevado.

We didn't entirely know what we were doing, but we had the support of the local artist and business communities, and we managed to make enough money to open a bank account and pay for our nonprofit filing fees. The event also made things real. We had no choice but to make the organization and shop happen.

We turned the cycling part of the event into an Alley Cat for Broken Hearts 2: Chain Breaks and Heart Aches. An Alley Cat is a scavenger hunt. It's quasi-athletic, although there are prizes for style in addition to speed.

Messengers in Atlanta have been organizing Alley Cats for as long as I've been cycling, and the usual format includes providing participants with a manifest, or a clue sheet that tells them where they need to go. Often there's a task to complete at each checkpoint, and depending upon who organized the event, it might be something hilarious, gross, beer-oriented, or all of the above.

The format for Broken Hearts 4 is a direct rip off of the Sadie Hawkins race. Seven of us drove a van up to Chicago in October to participate in that one. It's a partners event, where you enter with a friend and you must complete all tasks together.

Also, we're using a pick up/drop off format where you need to pick up something at a checkpoint before you can go to the corresponding drop off. For example, you may need to pick up a Tootsie Pop so you can find out how many licks it takes to get to the center at the drop off. This makes the Alley Cat a lot more fun because you're with someone else the whole time, and you're more likely to ride with other folks who are playing along.

Most people agree that these events are more fun when you're out there with people, instead of riding all alone, wondering whether you're really participating in anything but a strangely fast wander around town.

HL: How long has Sopo been around? What do you primarily do?

RW: We had our first meeting in December 2004. I'm the paid staff person, and I'm responsible for most of the administrative, development, and schmoozing work. I'm also present at the shop almost all of the time. I work closely with our organizing collective, which is a wonderful group of people who bring skills, talents, and energy to the organization, and without whom this work would not be possible. Of course, we are always looking for more people to get involved. That's the magic about community work... everyone is valuable, everyone is needed.

HL: How long have you been involved with Sopo bikes? What brought you to it?

RS: I'm a co-founder. I was 23 when this started. I spent most of my undergraduate career at Decatur Yellow Bikes. Schools like Emory let you write your honors thesis about community bike shops. Anyway, I had just begun grad school at GSU for community organizing social work when we had our first meeting. My friends Jay and Stewart Varner and I had been riding bikes for a while, and we were hearing the same conversation happening among different groups of people--cyclists and would-be cyclists couldn't afford bike shop repairs and they would have preferred to do it themselves if they had access to tools and knowledge. We thought, what if we pooled some money and created a shared set of tools and helped each other learn how to use them? I don't think we imagined that we would turn into a respected community resource capable of paying a staff person and that is open four days out of the week. I've talked to some folks who were skeptical in the beginning. I'm as shocked as they are.
 
HL: How bike friendly do you feel Atlanta is? How has this changed in recent years?

RS: I think the intown area is extremely bike friendly, and it's only getting better. Every new cyclist turned out is a score for all of us. The next trick is to get us all to behave the same way so we don't endanger ourselves. One of the most important ways to be safe on the road is to be as predictable as possible and to be aware that you are responsible for yourself and the people around you. This goes the same for any cyclist, no matter how fancy your bike is.
 
HL: How unified do you feel the Atlanta bike scene is? How connected is this scene to a more national movement towards a bike community? Is there a national bike community?

RS: I think there are scenes and there are communities. Scenes are about passing fashion, and there's quite a bit of that with bicycles, just like with anything else. And if bicycles are the cool thing right now, that's okay with me. As for the Sopo community, it's booming and it's diverse. We've got teens from opposite sides of town teaching each other. We've got elder folks coming down from Branan Towers (the assisted affordable housing tower in East Atlanta) working with us. The space is dominated by 20-somethings, which makes sense given how many students we've got coming through the city every semester. And that helps us maintain Sopo as a youth empowerment organization, which is how it all started: a bunch of young people had an idea, a lot of energy, and, thankfully, no clue what they were getting themselves into.

There is a national movement. We meet once a year for a conference called BikeBike! There are 110 community bike shops like Sopo across the US and Canada, and it's growing all the time. We're supporting an effort in Savannah right now, and we're in constant communication with the national network through bikecollectives.org. It makes sense that community bike shop folk would be the same kind of folk who are into information sharing.
 
HL: How does Sopo fit into this?

RS: We talk to folks across the continent daily. We send things to each other, visit each other, and support each other. It makes life for us easier having this giant community to turn to with any sort of question.
 
Don't be fooled.. Sopo is not a co-op of one. I do a lot of the talking, and that has a lot to do with my personality and the niche I have in the community.. and that's what it is: a community.

The community includes all kinds of people, and that's what makes this work. Ideas are generated by one or two or three people at a time, the community takes it on, and the story unfolds from there.

The shop, this event, our programs, and everything we do are possible because so many people participate, contribute, and lend their support. It's challenging--being a part of a giant group project meant to bring happiness to a diversity of people, but the things we create together far outweigh the tough parts, and it proves that cooperation works. If we work together and invest in a community vision, we can have a livable city full of bikes and everything else we want.