In defense of the beautiful bicycle

Not everyone can be picky when it comes to the bike they are afforded.  Some have a somewhat generic yet lovely hand-me-down gifted to them that served a family member or friend well for years .  Others had limited resources and jumped at the least expensive option because it was fast, inexpensive and easily acquirable with minimal research.  Not all of us have the luxury to take the time to purchase and build up a well riding, beautiful looking bicycle that suits our functional needs as much as it satisfies our aesthetic eye.  For some it doesn't even matter much altogether.

Then there are those of us who see the bike as more than just an object of pure utility, but as a gracefully functional piece of art that blurs this line entirely.  For some the bicycle is embraced as an object that will acquire not only tremendous use, but also visual admiration that warrants a treatment in beautiful design and assembly that parallels its function.  For those who see the bicycle as a marvelous object, the craft of bicycle building, assembly and repair becomes much more than just an act of labor, but an expression that elates the workmanship of bicycles to its highest form; an art.

Many people would consider nearly every aspect of this bicycle a constituent of art

Does it really matter?

Many a person has failed to understand my long time affinity with the bicycle let alone my attraction to the object in an artistic context.  Unnecessary and frivolous are words I have heard uttered in conversations that are suggestive of aesthetics' importance in bicycle design.  "Why is it that so many fail to see the mundane as beautiful" I have often wondered in my observance of the lack of love and attention given to so many otherwise potentially beautiful objects.  From kitchen knives to desks, I have seen both polar extremes of pure function vs pure form dominate the design and execution of various objects, both previously said and not.  For many its either one or the other while few manage to seamlessly teeter the fine line that so often dissects the two.  It is when function rests neither above nor under aesthetic that a seemingly perfect blend between the two begins to distinguishing an object as art vs the contrary.  What this whole "art" thing remains to be interpreted as is of course entirely in the eye of the beholder.  For some it is the gentle taper of a 4:1 airfoil that composes the down tube of a highly aerodynamic, fully carbon race machine.  For others it is a thin walled tube of steel that gently announces its encounter with its partnering tubes in the form of softly curving, color contrasting lugs.  Maybe a huge part of all of this is what the user plans to do with these machines of beauty.  Is it an upright, mellow paced cruz through town that the rider is looking for or perhaps an all out time trial effort that boasts the singular goal of speed?  Will swept back bars and a large leather saddle be the visual cue of a cyclist who wishes for optimal speed?  I wonder if conversely, a cyclist seeking leisure, comfort and practicality would find a pair of deep section, low spoke count carbon wheels attractive on their bike that is suggestive of everything BUT high speed?  Do intended applications give rise to particular aesthetic taste? Do our lifestyles and ambitions dictate our concept of what makes a bicycle beautiful to begin with?

Conversely, others would consider this to be highly artistic in execution

Treat your self

Regardless of your cup of tea, or coffee for that matter; I am here to say that I feel we should all be sensitive to one an others' selective taste.  What stands out as art to me might be a repulsive bit of kit to your sensibilities.  I can't expect my desired flavor to resonate deeply with all whom it concerns, but I can make an argument for the search of flavor altogether.

For those of us who might eventually spend decades with a bicycle in our possession, it only makes sense to acquire something that satisfies our visual desire as much as our physical.  When expressing our taste in the form of color palate, component selection, tube bonding and line flow in frame design we are merging multiple elements of beauty that give our ride a unique, personal bit of artistic character.  Will any of the previously mentioned adversely or positively affect the handling characteristics, weight or overall feel of the bike?  The answer is usually no.  But if that is the case, why not experiment with flavor a bit?  Why not take some time and spice up our experience in a way that gives it multiple dimensions that might otherwise be lacking?  For what reason can one argue the revocation of additional layers of depth that only seem to enhance our relationship with these potentially beautiful objects that we integrate into our daily lives?  For what reason should we avoid splicing elements of artistic craft into the "every day" work and product that we inevitably spend so much time laboring over and acquiring?

Why I turned down a full time, well paying job at a small local bike shop

I was recently contacted by the owner of what will remain an unspecified long time favorite bike shop of mine.  Small, homey and friendly are all words that have described my experience at this place over the years, and I feel honored to have been reached out to by the shops founder/owner.  He offers full time (even through slow season), good pay, some perks.. not bad I am initially thinking to myself as a smile comes across my face.  I spend the afternoon pondering the though on and off, considering the pros and cons while looking at my current transitional situation as I take obligatory time off from Esperonza community bike shop after being brought on as a "seasonal" teacher/mechanic/dork.  It of course sounded appealing initially and was somewhat tough to come out and say no, but I did, it feels good, and here is why.

Sticking to my guns

 Somewhere along the line a while back I made a creed of sorts with myself that I would focus on fixing bikes and find used parts far more so than I look to sell new counterparts.  It wasn't super strict as I was working for Stevie's Happy Bikes at the time, primarily brought on to repair bikes and eventually sell mostly used bikes as well (along with the occasional new sale here and there).  I was in love with the gig: being able to fix and often resurrect what were mostly peoples older, sensible, practical and usually serviceable bikes.  It was sort of a mini godsend for me as I had such a big affinity with building up bikes for myself and friends with as many nicer quality, used parts as I could find (be it freebees, ebay and craigslist scores or "boneyard" bits from my favorite shops).  I was getting paid to do what I already so much enjoyed while having great access to unique used bits as Stevie's was truly one of the last shops to support and sell older bikes and parts.  Reviving bikes, keeping workhorses running and helping people source affordable bits for their steeds became the daily MO as it all felt right.

After leaving Stevie's and transitioning to Esperonza I got an even more in depth taste of what I so desired. Not only was I exclusively wrenching bikes without selling a single thing, but I was helping teach people how to work on the bike they already had.  Using donated parts, take off bits from otherwise useless bikes and retrofitting anything necessary to get the job done was business as usual.  Working more and more in this context had me feeling even strong motivation to encourage people to work within their means while supporting positive ideals about the kind of riding that can realistically be done on most bikes.  Between writing on the blog here and teaching/wrenching at the community shop, it was as if I was truly becoming an ambassador of the types of ethics and ideals that I have grown and am still developing.  Being able to endorse various real world thoughts and feelings without undermining any sort of bottom line has been amazing.  Not needing to push expensive upgrades and bikes at the shop or contradict the messages of hypothetical blog adverts has given me the creative freedom to make stream of consciousness recommendations, being unfiltered in my opinions and sharing giving real world, no BS feedback and honesty.

This is my idea of a shop.  Tools, a stand and peoples bicycles.

Shops, sales and growth

To tie things back into here, my fundamental problem at hand is that most of the bikes that we bike shop workers/owners end up dealing with/selling are the higher end, race oriented bike toys.  Its not that I have an issue with people going out on their weekend recreational ride with one of their usually many bikes as much as it is that I have no desire to be a sales person/facilitator for said lifestyle.  There are plenty of bike shops that are already more than happy to make this their priority and it is exactly these bike sales that keep the already close to closing doors open for these shops.  The slow season shop instability stems mostly from business models that boast growth centralized around the season to season rush for the next "new" bike/product.  This inevitably demands that newer tech which is usually no better in quality, value, serviceability or compatibility gets sold in order to keep the revenue/jobs/overhead/net going as said.

Call me crazy but I just cant bring myself to become a cog in the motion that is the buy-sell-grow-repeat bike shop formula.  $1,000 entry level mountain and road bikes coming with a gamut of parts that will only be serviceable for a limited amount of time is not something that I am quick to get behind.  Brifters that gum up and become almost impossible to bring back to good order, hydraulics that only seal for so long and can't expect to work after a few years coupled with frighteningly rare service parts, suspensions that might have product support in the future, the trickle down of electronics in mid range componentry (and inevitably the entry level bikes when cost effective enough as we saw with hydraulics, suspensions and other new tech/standards) and the ever changing dimension standards are what I have to look forward to selling, endorsing, and supporting at nearly any thriving bike "shop" today.

 I use quotations above for the word bike shop because not all bike shops actually sell product beyond service bits, accessories and some small upgrades.  Not all shops are trapped in the jaws of the dealer vice with the obligation to continue to carry the newest said bike from "x" brand to keep the doors open another day.  Though they may be few and far between today, there are indeed bike "shops" that are primarily repair based and offer something that speaks far more to me than any of the aforementioned.  

Just wanting to wrench

   Really, at the end of the day I just want more than anything to service bikes.  I want to help keep the massive abundance of stuff in this world that we have already produced functioning as long as it can.  Ultimately I want to continue to encourage people to try to the best of their ability to live within their means, unsubscribe from the heavy marketing fluff and the "its never good enough" pressure to always seek the lighter, faster, quieter, most expensive products that the over saturated market place always has to offer.  I love bikes and seeing people get on them; but I even more love helping steer people in the direction of bikes that will fulfill their desire to ride for longer than the new-standard-daily/ultra high tech/nu-material-market is willing to support. 

 I don't want to sell disposable bike stuff.  I don't want to encourage people to buy disposable bike stuff.  Even if its what people are asking for, I wont be the mouthpiece sales pitch for this stuff that I fail to find a drive to support myself.  I can't bring myself to perpetuate an industry's increasingly insatiable habit of profiting from our often feeble nature.  If cutting edge tech is what the industry wants to sell while people continue to find the need to buy it then so be it, but I won't be the next in line to dole out the product in an industry that is drowning itself in waste, redundancy and gimmicks.