Say goodbye to Acme Bicycle Company

I'll bet my Specialized that, if you ride a bike in this town, you know the name Sarah Gibson.

Sarah Gibson at Acme Bicycle Company

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Well, get ready to say goodbye.

After nearly a decade running the eclectic bike shop that doubled as a hub of activism and partying, Gibson is closing shop and leaving Kansas City.

I stopped by yesterday morning and Acme was packed -- like, elbow-to-elbow, line-10-people-deep packed. Apparently, word spread quickly that the shop is hosting a clearance sale to get rid of its remaining inventory. (It runs until Thursday at 6 p.m., but drop everything and pedal over there right away if you expect to get anything good).

Given the cycling treasures housed in the squat, graffiti-covered building, the mood was decidedly grim. Even as they filled their arms with tubes and tires and cycling shoes, shoppers exchanged dreary looks. "It's a sad day," one guy said to an acquaintance as they shuffled past each other. "We're like vultures, huh?" the other responded.

Behind the counter, Gibson negotiated prices with patrons, who inevitably had a few words of regret that Acme is closing its doors. But, when I asked Gibson if she was sad this place will soon be shuttered, she explained the effort was never meant to be permanent. When she and her business partner, Christi Lynne, started Acme in 2000, she made that point very clear.

"My mom needed me in Kansas City and, I told her [Christie] that, when the time came that she didn't need me, I'd move to Portland," Gibson said. "And that just recently happened.

Her mother, Anne, died on October 24.

And Gibson is ready to move on, too. "I've been in retail 20 years," she said with a weary smile as she assured me that she won't miss the headache of running a business. But what about the space, the vibe, the way cyclists stop by to kick back in the lawn chairs, light up a cigarette and shoot the shit? Won't you miss that, I wondered?

"Well, it's too complex to say no," she reconsidered. "There's a lot I'll miss."

She's not sure what she'll be doing next, either. She hopes Acme will be closed by mid-December. Clearing out her mom's house, not to mention her own, will take a few weeks, too. But when the calendar hits 2010, she hopes to be Portland-bound.

Once she gets there? Who knows.

"I have four brothers and sisters, and a zillion nieces and nephews and 20 really good friends -- transplants from Kansas City," she says. "It's been my second home for 20 years."

Right now, she said, there isn't a going-away ride or farewell party planned. But we'll keep you posted if there's a public send-off, because Gibson's an activist and entrepreneur who will certainly be missed.