Getting Used to Weirdness; the State of Our Tiny Corner of the Bike Industry

Somehow, we seem to be nearing the end of 2021, and if you are like many other people, the last twenty months may have felt like an endless tumble down an up escalator. Lots of people are feeling stressed, pessimistic, angry, and confused. It doesn’t sound like it so far, but this post is about the state of the bike industry generally, and Yawp!, specifically, because we’ve been getting a lot of questions from customers about the bike boom, the supply chain, and our sanity. So, I thought I’d either address or fail to address all of these issues in one convenient place. Fair warning—this post makes the situation sound pretty dire. It is dire, but as you read please keep in mind that we’re doing okay. We aren’t going anywhere and we still like operating a bike shop. (Actually, that’s not entirely true. We are going somewhere. We’re closing the shop November 9-11th for a staff trip to Santa Fe. We’ll be back.)

The bike boom happened—or is happening—thanks to the pandemic. Every red-blooded, bread-baking, quarantined American became interested in bikes last year, when exercising outdoors was the prudent thing to do. Many of our customers in the last twenty months bought a bike for the first time, and it was really great to see so many people with so much excitement come through our door (one at a time, thanks also to the pandemic). Is the bike boom still happening? Yes. Ridership is still very high, and this accounts in a small way for the inventory shortages, but those have been caused mostly by supply chain issues.

While I’ve only begun to see news stories about the supply chain in the last month or two, it has been a nightmare for the bike industry for over a year now. It’s an extremely complicated situation, but let’s just say that if the supply chain were a cassette tape, it would be the cassette tape that binds up the tape deck in your car, catches fire, and blows up your car while it’s idling in the parking lot of the firework store (no one was injured in the making of this metaphor). The bike boom emptied manufacturers’ warehouses, while at the same time factories around the world were shut down because of COVID outbreaks. Demand is at an all-time high. Factories are backlogged. Shipping is a disaster. Is it getting better? No! Not at all. It’s as bad now as it’s been. We’ve spent countless hours at the computer to ensure we have small parts for repairs and as many accessories as we can get ahold of. In that regard, our inventory is looking pretty strong. Bikes, however, are few and far between. We—like most shops—are selling bikes months before they arrive in stock. That’s not what we want. We like it when customers can test ride a few models and sizes before making decisions. Are there any signs of recovery? Not really. We currently have a fraction of the inventory we’d like to have, and there’s absolutely no knowing how long it will be before we will once again inhabit the world of endless choice and availability to which we were once accustomed. That world of choice and availability seems as far away as a world where everyone is nice to each other and picks up after themselves.

Running a bike shop these last twenty months has been akin to driving a car in which all of the controls changed operations about once a month. This month, the gas pedal is the brake, the brake is the left turn signal, and the left turn signal is your horn, and the horn activates the wipers. The little button that normally ejects the cassette tape is now the cigarette lighter. Just about the time we get used to the nightmare of driving, the controls completely change again. On top of this disorienting and terrifying sensation, there’s also the way that time has simultaneously become a Groundhog Day-ish echo as well as a blind missile ride. For those of you curious about our sanity, the short answer is, “What is sanity, anyway?” and the long answer is below.

Even in the best of times, working in a bike shop can be taxing. Don’t get me wrong—it’s often fun and rewarding. Sometimes, though, repairing broken things is difficult and frustrating. Rude or condescending customers wander in from time to time. It can even get so busy that there’s no time to record offhand comments that would make a great band names, like Administrative Debacle, or Upset in My Ways.

These last twenty months have been a fair bit harder. We are are socially distant from the community that once gave us purpose. We are constantly disappointing customers who come in looking for bikes we can’t get. Earlier in the pandemic, we witnessed some customer behavior that was truly baffling. I don’t know exactly why, but I think the stress and fear wrought on all of us in those days made some people come into the store and be very weird. If Dennis Rodman had come by to throw cassoulet at us, nobody here would even have blinked an eye. That’s the kind of weirdness we were getting used to. Fortunately, that nonsense has subsided, but many of our present difficulties have no end in sight. This can make us weary. No one likes scrubbing cassoulet out of their jorts.

But the truth is that we’re fine. Everything seems bad, and like it’s going to be bad forever, but in each moment and the next we continue to be fine. We are trying to let go of what we wish were true and accept what is true, and for now what is true is good enough. As restrictions have eased, we’ve been able to ride bikes with you again, and that’s been quite a pleasure. Thanks for being the awesome, inspiring, and friendly customers and readers that you are.

Here are a few photos of some fun times we’ve had together, just because.