Hannah Wallace

Bicycles used to be Made in the U.S.A.—a New Bill Aims to Bring them Back

Oregon Congressman Earl Blumenauer talks about his push for American-made bicycles and the power of bikes to make cities more livable.

I did a Q&A with Congressman Bluenauer for Fast Co. in July.

 

After 28 years in Congress, Representative Earl Blumenauer (D-Oregon) has announced he’s retiring at the end of 2024. A cycling enthusiast known for his advocacy on everything from public transportation to cannabis legalization, Blumenauer isn’t leaving the halls of Congress without a final fight. Last month, he introduced legislation that would reinvigorate bicycle manufacturing in the U.S.

In March 1974, Fortune magazine documented the country’s “Bicycle Craze,” citing homegrown manufacturers like Murray and Huffman (Ohio), Schwinn (Chicago), and AMF (Ohio, Arkansas, and Illinois). But after demand fell off in the late ‘70s and ‘80s, brands looked for ways to cut costs and ultimately shifted production to other countries, like China. In 2022, 97.8% of bikes sold in the U.S.—electric and people-powered—were imported. Blumenauer’s Domestic Bicycle Production Act aims to incentivize American companies to make bicycles again through a mix of tariff suspensions, tax credits, and loans. Fast Company spoke to Blumenauer about his first bicycle memory, how bicycles have the power to bridge the political divide, and why America can and should be a powerhouse of bicycle manufacturing once again.

[Photo: Office of Rep. Blumenauer]

You’ve long been a cycling advocate. What turned you on to cycling, and when?

I remember being 5-years-old and learning to ride a bike. I actually rode a bicycle to school in first and second grades [in Portland]. I’m not a monster cyclist like some. But I’ve enjoyed cycling for recreation purposes and for transportation purposes. Some of my favorite vacations were peddling. I continue to walk or bike to work every day.

What’s your commute like in D.C., where you are right now?

It’s nothing! I live less than a mile away [from the Capitol]. It saved time and money not bringing the car back here.

Has it gotten safer in recent years as D.C. has improved its cycling infrastructure?

Yes. That’s one of the things I’m most proud of: being part of developing the bike infrastructure on Capitol Hill. I led the charge to put bike lanes down Pennsylvania Avenue. It was a really terrific addition to the city landscape. But putting a bike lane down the middle of one of the most well-known streets in America also had a very powerful symbolic benefit.

 

When I first came to D.C., there was only one other member of Congress who regularly rode a bike—a guy named Dave Minge from Minnesota. I’d mostly encounter a few random bike messengers. That has changed dramatically. Part of it is the expansion of the city bike program. But part of it is that we’ve promoted it here on Capitol Hill. Every day, you see staffers walking past with their helmets and their backpacks. People recognize that it’s a healthy, fast, economic way to transport—and it’s fun. And when you pull up to somebody at a stop light on a bike, there’s no road rage, there’s no snarling.

Portland is world-renowned for its bike culture. I love the bike “greenways” like Salmon and Ankeny—lower-traffic streets where bikes and cars share the roadway. What can other cities emulate about Portland when it comes to cycling safety and infrastructure?

Bike boulevards are something that are taking hold, in part because they work. They promote safer bicycle transportation but, also, when you put facilities like that in—it encourages others to ride a bike.

The bike and traffic-calming strategy on Harrison & Lincoln [in southeast Portland] has not only made it safe to cycle but it has made a difference in terms of the quality of life in the neighborhood. Since we put in that facility [a designated space engineered for bikes], property values went up. Not only is it more attractive, pleasant, and safe—people recognize it and it’s a more valuable place to invest.  

What can Portland and other cities do better, as bike and pedestrian accidents are rising?

Part of what we’re seeing is the hangover effects of COVID. People are less attentive, less patient. It’s disturbing. We are watching an epidemic of bike and pedestrian injuries and fatalities. We’re losing ground when we shouldn’t. We’re investing huge sums of money now through the infrastructure legislation we passed [the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law and Inflation Reduction Act]. There are 473 communities that have a federally-funded planning process for bike and pedestrian activity. We’re putting an extra $1 billion per year into facilities. And it’s really encouraging.

[Photo: Office of Rep. Blumenauer]

Let’s talk about your bill, the Domestic Bicycle Production Act, which would incentivize U.S. manufacturers to produce bicycles here—specifically e-bikes. Why is domestic manufacturing so important? What is your ultimate vision for this bill?

Early manufacturing efforts for bicycles really were the cornerstone for the manufacturing [transformation] in the United States. In fact, the bicycle was also the foundation for the aeronautics industry. It was a couple of bicycle mechanics—the Wright Brothers—who developed the airplane. Over 110 years ago, there was a bicycle messenger service in Seattle that grew into UPS. There are a whole host of jobs related to the manufacturing function of bicycles, and we’ve lost that. We have a tiny percentage of bicycles made in the United States these days: less than 2%.

It doesn’t have to be that way. We want to make sure that we make it easier to manufacture bicycles here. First, we suggest in this legislation: Place a 10-year tariff suspension on the importation of components needed to build a bike. This is an important cost benefit. We want to encourage companies to manufacture electric bikes by building a transferable e-bike production tax credit. And finally, we want to help expand our existing manufacturing base by providing loans to purchase equipment and increase capacity for domestic bicycle manufacturing facilities.

We think if we can take these steps, we can help build the momentum again for manufacturing bikes in the United States. And in Portland, as you know, there are a number of firms that make handmade bikes. They tend to be pricey—well, not as expensive as your first car or your first house. They’re really fabulous. We want to build on that momentum.

But also make bicycles that are more affordable for everyone, I’m assuming.
Yep!

The Biden Administration is planning big tariffs on Chinese goods, including e-bike batteries and other components. Your bill wants to exempt these items from such tariffs. Why are tariff exemptions a crucial part of this plan to build up domestic infrastructure? 

 

We have a significant tariff burden, in terms of what we’re trying to do to push back some on the Chinese. I don’t want to fight that battle. I just want to make sure we’re not putting the burden on U.S. manufacturers as we’re trying to get this off the ground. This is something strategically that’s been done in the United States for 120 years—back to when Teddy Roosevelt and William Howard Taft were presidents. Giving domestic manufacturing a bit of a break with tariff rates.

Do you really think it needs a 10-year suspension? Couldn’t it be done in five years?

We’re not talking about a temporary, short-term initiative. We’re talking about readjusting the mindset to domestic bicycle manufacturing. We want to build up the infrastructure, we want to create a market, have people thinking about a bike that’s made in America. We ought to be able to provide that benefit, so these companies can get established and grow. I think in the course of 10 years, they’ll be able to function on their own. We’ve got a real problem competing with bikes from China. They are massively subsidized by the Chinese government. And this is a way to help offset that.

Does the Domestic Bicycle Production Act have a chance of passing this divided Congress? 

I don’t know. We’re building support; we’re urging people to help us. There are people who are eager to be doing domestic manufacturing. We’re adding their voices. It’s not something that gets massive pushback from big organizations and special interests. So if things go right, it might be possible to tuck it into legislation that’s going to pass toward the end of the year. This is the most efficient form of transportation in the world, and we want to make sure the United States is part of this growing movement. 

You launched the Congressional Bike Caucus in 1996. What does it do? Who else is on it?

I founded it to make the federal government a better partner for livable communities: places where people are safe, healthy, and economically secure. This agenda does not have to be partisan. I talk a lot about “bike-partisanship” because I believe bikes are something that can bring us together rather than divide us. My friends Vern Buchanan (R-Florida) and Ayanna Pressley (D-Massachusetts) co-chair the Caucus with me. It’s made up of more than 80 members across the political spectrum. 

How have the Caucus’s goals changed over the last 30 years? It seems like general bicycle awareness has gone up but also cars have gotten bigger and safety hasn’t improved. Most cities are totally blowing their Vision Zero goals.

When I first came to Congress in 1996, bike infrastructure only received a sliver of all federal transportation spending. Today, we’ve created a national movement shaping communities large and small. There’s a gusher of funds available to build out pedestrian and bike infrastructure. This is the first administration where we’ve had a president that is so committed to rebuilding America. Now it is about implementation, helping communities take advantage of the funding to build safer, more connected networks.

Despite this progress, the transportation industry has not done its part. Cars are bigger, which makes it harder to see pedestrians. And as I mentioned earlier, we haven’t fully recovered from the recklessness seen during COVID.

We need to take seriously the safety of all road users, not just motorists. Many places are just starting to build out cycling infrastructure, and we should double down on these investments. We can also do more to harness technology like automatic emergency breaking for cyclists and pedestrians that would prevent crashes from happening in the first place. 

What are your plans after you retire from Congress?

After 28 years in Congress, I’m looking forward to spending less time on airplanes and more time in Portland, helping the city regain its balance. As a local elected official, I helped Portland become one of the most livable cities in America. I’m convinced we earn back that reputation. There are important projects that can help revitalize our community. I look forward to continuing this work as a civilian. 

The opening of a luxury hotel in downtown Portland has divided the city

I wrote a story about the Ritz-Carlton, Portland for Fast Company a few weeks ago.

Hotel rooms at the new Ritz-Carlton will start at $473; residences cost up to $8.9 million. But on the surrounding blocks, Portlanders camp in tents and doorways.

A gleaming, sail-like 35-story tower has emerged on the corner of Southwest Washington and 10th Avenue in downtown Portland, Oregon, over the past few years. It’s home to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel and Residences, a nearly $700 million development that broke ground in 2019 and is set to open in October.

The debut of a new Ritz-Carlton is usually a sign that a city has arrived, at least for luxury travelers, and this one hits all the marks. The 251-room hotel, where double rooms start at $473 a night, includes a 7,000-square-foot fitness center, an infinity pool, and food-cart-inspired eateries on the ground floor, a nod to the thriving food cart pod that the building displaced. There are also residential apartments—priced between $1.14 million and $8.9 million—with sweeping mountain views.

[Photo: Ruum Media/courtesy Ritz-Carlton Hotel Company]

But just outside the hotel’s front entrance, a different reality sets in. On the surrounding blocks, Portlanders camp in tents and doorways, among the roughly 6,000 people who are experiencing homelessness in Multnomah County, which encompasses Portland and its eastside suburbs. Just two blocks away from the hotel is the county’s new Behavioral Health Resource Center, which offers showers, lockers, laundry, and basic first aid to unsheltered Portlanders, and often has a line down the block.

The city is also wrestling with a devastating fentanyl crisis—complicated by a lack of detox services that Measure 110, the statewide drug decriminalization law that voters passed in November 2020, was supposed to fund. (That law, which treats small possession of hard drugs like heroin and methamphetamines as violations on par with a traffic ticket, passed with wide support, but now a majority of Oregonians support repealing it, according to a poll conducted by Emerson College Polling.) In March, there were 11 overdoses in downtown Portland during one 12-hour period; three of those people died.

The opening of a lavish new hotel has the city divided. Boosters say it will help attract locals and tourists alike to downtown after the ravages of COVID-19 and the unrest during the 2020 street protests. “This hotel will add immensely to the revitalization,” says Walter Bowen, CEO of BPM Real Estate Group, the developer of the Ritz-Carlton, citing the jobs and money that it will bring to the city’s core.

Critics call it tone deaf—or worse. “Right outside my window are 20 tents, and those are just the ones that I can see,” says Alison Miller, senior minister at the First Unitarian Church of Portland, which has a long history of providing day shelter to houseless families and will soon launch a shower program. The church is located nine blocks from the Ritz-Carlton. “And now [there are] these luxury apartments. These two extremes really force us to reckon with who is losing out and who is being supported in our city.”

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The story of the Ritz-Carlton’s fraught relationship with the local community dates back to tax breaks folded into the Trump administration’s 2017 tax overhaul, creating the Opportunity Zone program. The idea behind Opportunity Zones was to encourage investors to build in impoverished or struggling areas by allowing them to defer and reduce taxes on capital gains that they reinvest into these developments. If they hold the new investment for a decade, they never have to pay taxes on those gains.

In May 2018, when Portland’s core was thriving, Oregon Governor Kate Brown’s administration designated the entire downtown to be an Opportunity Zone, raising more than a few eyebrows. That same month, BPM Real Estate Group signed a 75-year ground lease for the land in that zone. It broke ground for the Ritz-Carlton in July 2019, and began raising funds through the Opportunity Zone program.

Since then, BPM has raised at least $63 million from outside investors through a Qualified Opportunity Fund, short of the fund’s $120 million goal, according to documents filed with the Securities and Exchange Commission in February 2023. A $50 million fund that BPM launched in 2020 had raised $200,000 at its last filing, in 2021. Though a luxury development in downtown Portland today seems like less of a slam dunk than it might have appeared back in 2018, BPM and the investors in these funds stand to receive significant tax benefits for the money they put into the Ritz-Carlton.

[Photo: courtesy Ritz-Carlton Hotel Company]

The Ritz-Carlton project, to some, exemplifies the fundamental flaws in the Opportunity Zone program. Too much untaxed capital, they say, has flowed into neighborhoods that were already doing relatively well (which downtown Portland was, pre-pandemic) and toward real estate developments that exacerbate affordable housing crises. And the only people really benefiting are already wealthy.

When Senate Finance Chairman Ron Wyden launched an investigation into Opportunity Zones in 2022, he called out the Ritz-Carlton project as an example of the program “helping subsidize luxury real estate development by wealthy developers” and allowing “these investors to realize the gains on their investments completely tax-free.”

In his book Only the Rich Can Play, David Wessel, journalist and senior fellow at the Brookings Institution, also singles out the Ritz-Carlton as a misuse of tax benefit. “If you have a neighborhood on the cusp of gentrification and you want to accelerate that, [designating it as an Opportunity Zone] is not the wrong decision for a state to make,” he says today. “It just may not be the purpose of the program.”

Critics of Opportunity Zones say that they further the divide between rich and poor and deprive the government of much-needed revenue. “The taxes wealthy investors avoid through Opportunity Zones is money that could instead go to improve our schools, make college more affordable, expand affordable housing, or fund other ways of making Oregon more prosperous,” Juan Carlos Ordóñez, communications director of the Oregon Center for Public Policy, wrote in a recent op-ed in Oregon Capital Chronicle. 

Lauren Armony, systemic change program director at Portland’s Sisters of the Road, a social justice organization that aims to end poverty and homelessness, objects to the way city officials fast-track projects like the Ritz-Carlton while seemingly dragging their heels on affordable housing. Her organization also worries that the Ritz-Carlton, which is located in an enhanced services district that allows area business owners to pool funds and pay for private services, will usher in more security guards and lead to “the criminalization of homelessness,” she says.

Bowen, for his part, sees the hotel playing a key role in the city’s rebirth. “You have the hotel, which has a huge impact in terms of employment, [hiring] 250 to 350 employees. These people are going to work in downtown Portland. They’re gonna spend money in Portland.”

And then there are the executive teams and people who will be working in the tower’s 165,000 square feet of office space, including the law firm Davis Wright Tremaine and private equity firm Banneker Partners. There are street-level retail shops (Packouz Jewelers, Rolex, and the food hall Flock). Room taxes—11.5% total for Portland and Multnomah County—will inject even more dollars into the city.

“Between the impact of that, permits, and the cost of the hotel and real estate taxes on the residences and the land, offices, and so on—you’re looking at about $120 million over 10 years,” Bowen says of the money that the development will bring to Portland. He also says the residences start at a “very reasonable level,” noting that they cost “just $1 million [to] a million and a half for one bedrooms, and those are nice one bedrooms—1,300 square feet.”

What makes all of this even harder for critics to stomach is Bowen’s refusal to include affordable housing in the project. Portland has been in a formal housing state of emergency since 2015. In 2017, as a way to fix this, the City Council passed an “Inclusionary Housing” policy mandating that any new building of more than 20 units make one-fifth of all units affordable for people making 80% of the region’s median income (about $90,000 for a family of four) or make 10% of units affordable for people making 60% of the median income. Since 2017, the policy has created roughly 1,000 permanently affordable rental units. It also allows developers to pay a fee in lieu of building these units, due at the issuance of building permits—with the money going toward an affordable housing fund.

Bowen signed an agreement in March 2021 with the Portland Housing Bureau pledging to make 26 of the 132 luxury condos in the Ritz-Carlton affordable. But earlier this year, according to Martha Calhoon, public information manager at the Portland Housing Bureau, project representatives informed the bureau that they would pay $7.76 million rather than go through with the affordable units. (Since Bowen and his representatives had originally signaled to the city they intended to provide the affordable units, what they are paying is not a fee but rather a penalty, Calhoon says. The fee-in-lieu payment is normally due at permit issuance. “What the developer of the Ritz Carlton project plans to pay is in fact a penalty,” she says.) This money will go toward affordable housing in the city, though not necessarily in downtown.

“Ritz-Carlton residences are not really designed for inclusionary housing,” says Bowen of the decision to eschew affordable units. “We came to an agreement with the city that we would pay a fee so that we didn’t have people [in the building] who really couldn’t afford it.” Speaking with the Portland Business Journal last year, he was even more blunt. “I still think it’s outrageous that we have to pay anything,” he said, noting that the project is already investing in the city through its Opportunity Zone status.

Today he further justifies the move away from inclusionary housing by explaining that the Ritz-Carlton residences are not your typical condos: “I mean, these weren’t even rentals—they’re not housing. They are residences that are managed. There’s nothing like this in Portland.” The city’s Inclusionary Housing policy, however, applies to both rental and condo developments—even ones that come with five-star hotel amenities like access to a pool, spa, and fitness center, as well as a valet, 24/7 parking garage, and concierge service.

Bowen has said that he’ll pay the $7.76 million—calculated at $27 per square foot—as the last 26 units are sold. “The developer plans to pay a portion of the penalty at the sale of each of the otherwise planned IH units,” Calhoon confirms. Additionally, the city will charge an interest rate of .833% per month, which will begin to accrue if the penalty isn’t paid by the time all the residential units are sold—or December 31, 2025, whichever comes first.

“The project is still contributing toward meeting the city’s housing needs,” says Carmen Rubio, the city commissioner in charge of the housing bureau, via email. She notes that the BPM money will go toward other affordable housing programs, “such as gap financing for the development of new affordable rental housing.”

Terry Sprague, the CEO and founder of Luxe/Forbes Global Properties and listing broker for the Ritz, has so far sold 15% of the property’s 132 residential units. He is also bullish about the Ritz-Carlton’s positive impact. Sprague, who has been sober for 23 years, says he believes houseless advocates and business leaders are starting to coalesce around similar goals. “I think people on both sides are starting to agree. We all have the same mission: How do we help the homeless? How do we help people with drug addiction?”

He envisions the hotel changing the dynamics for downtown by infusing it with a “positive new energy” and new clientele. “When you get a neighborhood that comes alive, and people start living and actively moving into that city . . . unfortunately, homeless people and drug-addicted people don’t really want to be around other people. They’ve kind of had this city to their own,” he explains. “There is going to be a natural displacement, and we as a city need to figure out how we offer assistance and find healthy places to be displaced to.”

Where houseless Portlanders will be “displaced to” is anybody’s guess. Though the city has recently opened a seventh Safe Rest Village (tiny house villages for people experiencing homelessness) it’s already full and shelters just 400 people. Mayor Ted Wheeler’s plan of mass encampments, such as the new Clinton Triangle Temporary Alternative Shelter, which will house 140 people, is getting off to a slow start.

Miller at the First Unitarian Church has a challenge for the Ritz-Carlton and other businesses eyeing downtown Portland. “My hope is any corporation investing in the city for profit will also be investing in the well-being of the whole community,” she says. “It’s a problem when people who work in the hospitality industry can’t afford to live near enough to work. There’s an opportunity for [the Ritz-Carlton] to make a difference.”

The hotel’s developers, Miller adds, turned down the opportunity to create affordable housing. “So what are they saying yes to?”

Phil Knight ponied up $400 million to help historically Black areas of Portland. Meet the woman investing it.

I wrote a story for Fast Co. about Rukaiyah Adams, CEO of the new 1803 Fund. 

When Rukaiyah Adams took the podium at Nike World Headquarters in Beaverton, Oregon, two weeks ago to announce Phil and Penny Knight’s $400 million donation to the 1803 Fund her voice wavered with emotion. It’s understandable why: Thanks to the contributions of the Nike founder and his wife, the scale of the assets she’ll be managing as chair of the newly formed fund will be game-changing for Portland’s Black community, which her family has been a part of for four generations.

“At $400 million, I’ll be managing almost more than all Black women in venture capital,” Adams tells me by phone a week later. “I don’t think there’s a Black woman who has ever raised more than a few million dollars for a historically Black community.”

The 1803 Fund, a public benefit nonprofit, is dedicated to rebuilding and strengthening the historically Black community in North and Northeast Portland. “It’s like a private equity fund for the people,” Adams says. The fund will have three focus areas: education, culture and belonging, and place. Its first project, Rebuild Albina, is focused on investing in the Black neighborhood that was partially razed in the 1950s to make way for Memorial Coliseum, I-5, and Legacy Emanuel Hospital, displacing a vibrant business district and residential community of bungalows, jazz clubs, corner groceries, and churches.

Continue reading here.   Or email me for a copy of the PDF! 

Portland's First Food Hub brings the Farm to a Bigger Table

I've been wanting to write about Ecotrust's the Redd on Salmon ever since VP of Food and Farming Amanda Oborne explained the concept to me. I finally got my wish: my short article on the Redd appears in the September issue of Fast Company magazine.  

 

Here's a longer version of the story: 

The local food movement has reached a plateau. According to the latest census, Americans spend a mere $1.3 billion on local food via farmers markets and CSAs. (That’s a fraction the trillions we spend in the industrial food system). Though many midsized farmers and ranchers long to expand their reach, most don’t have the infrastructure, time, or staff to do so.

Environmental think tank Ecotrust in Portland, Oregon, may have the answer. After years of research on what the so-called “agriculture of the middle” needs to scale up, Ecotrust’s in-house food systems expert Amanda Oborne has helped spawn a new project. Called the Redd on Salmon Street, the two-building $23 million campus is part high-end food hall, part “food hub”—a central warehouse where farmers, ranchers, and other food producers can stash their product until it’s ready to be distributed. And because this is Portland, the food is not distributed via CO2-spewing trucks. Instead, a company called B-line employs cyclists to deliver product via a fleet of electric-assist trikes with refrigerated trailers that carry up to 700 pounds. The Redd (the term for the spawning ground of salmon) is poised to grow Oregon’s regional food economy from boutique to badass. 

Food hubs are nothing new. In fact, there are roughly 350 food hubs across the U.S., according to the Wallace Center’s National Good Food Network. But the Redd is unique.

Most food hubs are run like nonprofits. The Redd is a for-profit business with equity investors. It has anchor tenants like the FoodCorps national headquarters, retail space (ground will break on the Redd “east” building in the fall), and production kitchens for value-added food businesses. These businesses, which pay market-rate rents, subsidize the less sexy behind-the-scenes storage and operations, which is run by B-line. Think of it as a mash-up of a real estate development, food hall, and traditional food hub.

At press time, B-line had already signed on 30 clients including Betsy’s Best Bars (vegan energy bars), Camas Country Mill (flour), Carman Ranch (grass-fed beef), OlyKraut (gourmet sauerkraut), Organically Grown Co. (produce), and Starvation Alley Farms (organic cranberries and juice). Here’s how it works: a company delivers its product to the Redd and stores it either in dry or cold storage. B-line riders repack products into a trailer and bike it around town from AirBnB’s corporate cafeteria to local grocery stores like New Seasons, and on to downtown restaurants like Higgins and Cafe Bijou. (The trikes have a 2.5 mile delivery radius.)   

It’s hard to overstate how excited ranchers and fisherman are about the Redd’s 2,000 square feet of cold storage—half freezer space, half refrigeration. Oborne calls it “the beating heart of the entire campus.”

“It used to be that all the little guys would pull up at New Seasons in their Subarus or pick-ups, clogging up the dock doors,” says Oborne. “Now they bring their stuff to the Redd and it gets repacked for store-specific delivery.” Vendors love this because they don’t waste time making deliveries; New Seasons loves it because trikes can bike right into the packing area. 

There’s nothing wrong with shopping at farmers markets, of course, but Oborne sees them as a point on the local food economy’s trajectory. “Farmers markets helped us wake up,” Oborne says. “Projects like the Redd will help us grow up.”

 

 

 

 

Move Over, Kale: Dulse Is The Superfood Of The Future

I wrote about dulse, a crimson sea vegetable that's got the umami of bacon and the nutritional punch of kale, for the February issue of Fast Company. No, dulse is not new. It's been a culinary staple in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and New Brunswick for centuries. But this particular strain, which is being grown in tanks on the Oregon Coast, grows super fast.

Will farmed dulse be a sustainable new crop for Oregon? After tasting it at Imperial, I sure hope so. 

Fried dulse is served with aioli at Imperial