Waxwing Bag Co. is nestled in the heart of Vermont's Green Mountains.
All bags are made by me, Dave Cain (in blue shirt on left above). The desire --perhaps need -- to make functional beauty is a significant part of who I am and it's been that way for most of my life. With a background is in design, woodworking, art and architecture, I've been making things, in one form or another for as long as I can remember; I've built boats and houses, studied painting and architecture, and created furniture, yet bags are where I've landed, and happily so. They provide a perfect opportunity to connect that desire to make with the world of bikes and adventure. I love the notion that my work helps facilitate the requirements of others as they travel, commute, adventure or simply just ride around.
A number of years ago I wanted a Rivendell Hobo bag. Alas, they were no longer available, so I decided to try making my own. The process deeply engaging and was so fun that I felt I had to do more of this. With no real experience, I just started making bags. It was really one of those lightbulb moments where I knew with a level of certainty that this is what I wanted to do. Offering up bags to the cyclists of the world just feels right.
Not long after making that Hobo bag, I noticed a ragged old French handlebar bag crudely strapped to the rear rack of an ancient three-speed at a nearby bike shop. Unable to get the poor lump of canvas out of my mind, I went back and asked about the bag-- turns out it had been thrown out! Luckily the barrel of trash had not been emptied and the bag was literally pulled from the trash and handed over to me. Talk about timing, right? It's not everyday you come upon a lovely old randonneuring bag in rural Vermont. With this bag in hand I had a template--somebody was looking after me. Thats the bag right there in that photo.
Besides making cycling gear I love to goof around with my wife Nancy, savoring long cycling journeys close to home and far away, making maple syrup, talking to the cats, gardening, skiing, taking naps, and doing magic tricks for impressionable nieces and nephews.
Life is short and I'm grateful to be doing this work. I'm also grateful for the slow and steady progress that practice and time allow.
All bags are made by me, Dave Cain (in blue shirt on left above). The desire --perhaps need -- to make functional beauty is a significant part of who I am and it's been that way for most of my life. With a background is in design, woodworking, art and architecture, I've been making things, in one form or another for as long as I can remember; I've built boats and houses, studied painting and architecture, and created furniture, yet bags are where I've landed, and happily so. They provide a perfect opportunity to connect that desire to make with the world of bikes and adventure. I love the notion that my work helps facilitate the requirements of others as they travel, commute, adventure or simply just ride around.
A number of years ago I wanted a Rivendell Hobo bag. Alas, they were no longer available, so I decided to try making my own. The process deeply engaging and was so fun that I felt I had to do more of this. With no real experience, I just started making bags. It was really one of those lightbulb moments where I knew with a level of certainty that this is what I wanted to do. Offering up bags to the cyclists of the world just feels right.
Not long after making that Hobo bag, I noticed a ragged old French handlebar bag crudely strapped to the rear rack of an ancient three-speed at a nearby bike shop. Unable to get the poor lump of canvas out of my mind, I went back and asked about the bag-- turns out it had been thrown out! Luckily the barrel of trash had not been emptied and the bag was literally pulled from the trash and handed over to me. Talk about timing, right? It's not everyday you come upon a lovely old randonneuring bag in rural Vermont. With this bag in hand I had a template--somebody was looking after me. Thats the bag right there in that photo.
Besides making cycling gear I love to goof around with my wife Nancy, savoring long cycling journeys close to home and far away, making maple syrup, talking to the cats, gardening, skiing, taking naps, and doing magic tricks for impressionable nieces and nephews.
Life is short and I'm grateful to be doing this work. I'm also grateful for the slow and steady progress that practice and time allow.