Last summer Spencer got the opportunity of a lifetime: a steal of a deal on a Rivendell Hunqapillar from fellow contributor Tay. After years of lusting and building budget Riv-inspired builds, Spencer finally received the offer he couldn’t refuse. Read the whole story below…
Origins of a Dream
In the latter aughts, I was a young, fledgling mechanic working in a bike shop in downtown Long Beach. I was finishing my degree in photography at the time and had found my way into bikes through the nascent fixed gear boom. Through the aforementioned shop’s manager and Russ Roca, who at the time was a local photographer who worked via bike, I was introduced to Rivendell Bikes. I was instantly enchanted by the lugs and classic aesthetics, but when I told my manager that I hoped to one day own a Rivendell, he retorted, “You’ll never have a Rivendell, Grant doesn’t sell to hipsters.”
I felt despondent at what was then a catch-all jab, though I couldn’t really argue with him riding my brakeless fixed gear around at the time. I even found an old aspirational Tumblr post of mine saying One day I’ll have a Rivendell, which features a Hunqapillar. Prophetic. He was, of course, wrong about the whole selling to hipsters thing, or is it just to cult members? In the end, proving my old manager wrong was just icing on the cake to finally finding a dream Hunqapillar.
Summer Romance
Fast forward almost two decades, and I’m in Vancouver, BC, just after a two-week bike tour around the Olympic Peninsula. My old bud Sam Stewart encouraged me to make a stopover for a long weekend in BC post-bike tour, and I happily obliged. I sent my touring rig home to Tucson with a friend before heading to Vancouver, so I was bike-less, but a visit to see Tay led to a loaner Hunqapillar. I jumped at the opportunity to ride the dreamy rig. The year prior, an ensemble of Radavist staff came together to procure the Hunqapillar from a nice old man selling it in Albuquerque. He even had the original tag from the sale.
Tay lent me the Hunq for the weekend so I could pedal around with buds who were also mostly riding Rivendells. The sun was blazing, the beers cold, and the weekend flew by in a haze of treats and summer bliss. I was enchanted by the bike, the aesthetic, the feel, the warmth.
Upon returning the bike to Tay, she revealed that she’d never felt fully comfortable on the bike and was considering selling it, but due to the effort that went into acquiring it and the deal she’d gotten, she wanted to keep it in the family. I jumped at the opportunity; whatever she wanted, I’d figure it out. We decided to attempt a handoff the following month at Made in Portland. I found a friend driving from Tucson to the show who agreed to ferry it home for me.
Tay rode the bike around Portland for the weekend, and as the show drew to a close, she stripped a few parts off the bike she coveted and handed off the beautiful steed. I finally owned a Rivendell!
Home in the Desert
Years ago, a young Jay Ritchey (of Bags By Bird) moved to Tucson. Having worked at Rivendell for a spell, he brought those sensibilities down to the desert with him. Despite him and a few friends’ gumption, the desert is no East Bay hills, and they found that their Rivendells weren’t well-suited to the rocky desert trails.
As such, I decided early on that my Hunq would be a town cruiser, specifically for missions to the lauded Time Market, for a slice and kale salad. Time Market feels like the center of the Tucson universe most days, and I just have to have the best-looking bike on the rack.
I made a self-imposed rule a few years ago that any new bike would have to replace at least one previous bike, if not two, ideally. I broke that rule for the Hunqapillar. The offer of a lifetime would not fill any utilitarian role in my stable other than being pretty. And, whew boy, does it look purty.
My Take on the Hunqapillar
Tay had done quite a number on the Hunq during her stint with the bike, building on the quality parts the previous owner had chosen. The bike came to me with a 3x setup and a set of paper-thin Continental Race Kings. I couldn’t stand the sight of the bike with black wall tires, so I swapped in some burly Sim Works Super Yummys since this bike was gonna stay tubed.
It may seem like sacrilege to have taken the 3x crankset off, but after a few months of literally never touching the front derailleur, which I have no love for anyway, I decided it was time for 1x. A silver Wolf Tooth 110 BCD ring paired to a set of Specialized Flag cranks spoke to me, and I think it keeps the bike looking really clean.
I had my Bags By Bird Right Height bag lying around, looking for a home. Considering Jay’s history with Rivendell, it seemed like a perfect fit, and fit perfectly it did.
Tay had kept the original owner’s Velcro’d Chapstick on the top tube during her ownership, which I took off while building the bike up. She was rather upset about that, but when a fan of the site (I’ve lost your contact, say hello again!) sent me a 3D-printed chapstick holder, I knew just the bike for it. I was able to get the bike back to its original spec, finally.
The final piece of the puzzle was a top tube pad from Realm, which I picked up at Bike Camp. I constantly found myself sitting on the top tube cable routing, and I thought a pad would help. It also really brings the whole story of being a fixed gear hipster with a top tube pad in 2009 full circle to now owning a Rivendell in 2026.
Sometimes you have to wait a decade or so to prove someone wrong, but at long last I’m a Riv guy now…