As a teenager, I had a Toys-R-Us (soon to be Toys-Were-Us) mountain bike that I enjoyed riding through the woods and down flights of stairs. It weighed as much as--but didn't handle as well as--a tank, and it sounded like a sack full of silverware tumbling downhill. In college, I liked the idea of selling my car and getting around on two wheels. The notion made me feel tough and "urban," whatever that means, but in reality I rarely rode my bike anywhere.
There was a marked turning point where a bicycle changed my life dramatically, and set in motion the events that led to the formation of this bike shop. In 2005 I was working at a bookstore, to which I daily rode the bus. It was crowded, rude, inhospitable to reading, time-consuming, and supremely unpleasant. My birthday falls near Christmas, and in the winter of 2005 my wife talked my family and her family into pooling efforts and purchasing a bicycle for me. I started commuting to work, and that quickly became my favorite part of the day. I soon thereafter started working in a bike shop and, well, here we are.
I'm writing about this because I recently rediscovered the booklet that my wife made for to announce the gift, and I'd like to share it with you.
Obviously she knows me better than I know myself. Thanks, Rebecca.
And if you are happy that our bike shop exists, you can thank her, too.