I love bikes. Riding them, fixing them, talking about them; all of it. In my thirties, I got away from cycling. Then, in 2008, we moved to the Raleigh and Wake Forest area and somewhere between the 12 months of good weather and feeling the need for more exercise, the velophile in me was reawakened.
I grew up in the 70s. That’s when kids rode their bikes all day and well into most nights. It’s before bikes were even much of a sport in America, but every kid had one. We’d roll our Schwinn Sting-Rays around the suburbs wearing Starkie shoes and bell-bottom jeans, and we’d set boards across three bricks to see how much air we could catch on the jumps. On a bike is simply where life happened for us.
But I didn’t start working on bikes until a few years ago. I was in graduate school at the time, studying to be an Army Chaplain, and the tinkering was a respite from studies. I would take breaks from schoolwork and tune up or overhaul bike projects in our garage. Then, the neighbors began bringing me their own tattered bikes, and then their family’s, and then their friends’ bikes.
Kids started to hang out around my garage and ask if I would teach them how to work on their bicycles. Some would ask if I had business cards with my store hours so they could bring their parents by to go shopping. I had to explain that I did not have a business and I didn’t even have a bike shop. It was just my personal garage where I came to work on something that I loved doing. People kept coming anyway, and little by little, we began to sell refurbished bicycles from our garage. But it’s not what I set out to do.
Quite unintentionally, I became a professional bicycle mechanic. One of the local bike shops saw that I was buying a lot of repair parts and they asked me to come work for them. So I did. I thought, “What’s the harm? It’ll give me something to do while I am waiting to go into the Army.” The job was part-time at first since I was still finishing up school.
Then, when the troops began coming home, the Army decided that they did not need so many chaplains anymore. So they thanked me for my trouble and we began looking toward other pursuits. Around this time, the bike shop where I was working part-time asked me to manage their service shop full time, and I said I would.
It was a lot of fun for around six months. That’s about how long it took me to begin looking for something more challenging where I could become more involved in the cycling community and do things on my own terms.
Then, around a year later, a space became available right at the base of the Falls Lake Dam. It was exactly at the zero mile marker for the Neuse River Trail. It was, I concluded, the perfect location for a bike shop. The greenway literally brought cyclists to our front door. For a guy who likes fixing bikes, riding bikes, and even just talking bikes, it seemed like an obvious match.
So we emptied the contents of my home shop into the new space and got to work. We painted and trimmed and built until things began to look like a real bike shop, and on November 1, 2013, The Bike Guy was officially open for business.
People often ask me where the Bike Guy name came from. And I tell them, it comes from those years when I was working in my garage. Neighbors and sometimes total strangers would come by and ask, “Hey, aren’t you the bike guy?” After hearing people refer to me that way so many times, the name kind of stuck. So, that’s the name on the door. But it all started in our home garage, quite unintentionally.
Now we are set up at the base of Falls Dam and I get to work on bikes all day on my own terms. Bike shops that push pressured sales and tout elitist attitudes are a dime a dozen. What Wake Forest and North Raleigh needed was a bike shop without the attitude. That is who we strive to be. A bike shop for anyone, or everyone. We will never make anyone feel like they or their bike are not worth our time. In fact our number one rule is: Ride What You Got.
A lot of our customers are competitive athletes. But those who do not race should feel equally welcome. Some of our customers are extremely fit but many are not. We serve both with equal interest. We know that although some cyclists are working on their next Ironman, other folks are just trying to get off the couch. We appreciate both, but feel that the latter is more important. Likewise, kids are welcome here. A bike shop for everyone.
We are also the only oasis on the Neuse River Trail and that makes our shop the best place on the greenway to begin and end a ride. It’s a good place for people to fuel up and hydrate. We also air up countless tires and do complimentary inspections for cyclists as they get ready for their ride. Tires a little low? Swing by before you take off. Chain need oil? Come see us and we’ll get you set up while your friends are still unloading their bikes. We are here to get you riding.
All things considered, we are glad to have a bike shop right in the center of where Wake Forest’s and Raleigh’s cycling culture is developing. And we look forward to growing with our community. See you on the trail!
-Rob, The Bike Guy
People are always telling me how I should feel about cycling. I should feel exited about the race scene or offended by athletes who use steroids or impressed by those who do not. When I ride with my friends, I should feel envy over someone’s new carbon fiber bike or prideful about my own. I should feel pressure to keep up with industry trends or constantly eager to buy some new trinket hailed to be the greatest thing bolted to bicycle since the wheel.
I have websites telling me how to save a buck through huge corporate product suppliers, whose websites do nothing more than shuffle boxes in one warehouse door and out another. Although they sell cycling products at wholesale prices, they actually have no place in my community. Although it’s always tempting to buy their cheap stuff, when I shop through them, I feel like I am part of the problem. On the other hand, I am told by chat room forums that I should shop local and be loyal to smaller, family owned bike shops who do not have the lowest prices. They also may not have all the products I want in stock. But they actually are the folks who move cycling forward in my community.
In the meantime, mass media tells me how I need to feel about the Tour de France or the pro athletes or their bikes or their clothing and to be honest; I have one message to send to all of those who would tell me how I need to feel about cycling; I ride for me. When I’m on the trail, I’m not there to show off gear or my new shiny bike or to impress cycling buddies about the innovative products I read about last night. I’m there for the ride.
Whether or not elitist millionaire athletes use drugs to cheat in races which promote giant corporations who cram the market with products I don’t need; doesn’t really matter to me. That isn’t my ride. For the athlete who cheats; the win, the trophies and the self loathing are his to have. None of these need concern me. Yes, I will agree that cheaters shouldn’t win. But I don’t want to read one more article about it in a cycling magazine. I don’t want to hear any more about it from talk show hosts and I certainly do not want to think about it when I am on my bike.
I also try to ignore the constant lure of novel cycling contrivances. Every time there is any new innovation in the industry, I do not need to give in the pressure to go get it. In fact, I purposely own a very old, heavy and slow bicycle. It is a Schwinn, made by an American blue collar artisan and it is almost as old as I am. Although it has little chance of winning a race, it is a thing of beauty. It isn’t new in any way. It isn’t ahead of it’s time or aerodynamic or made of carbon fiber. So what’s so special about it?
This bike reminds me that the ride, is about the ride. When I’m on it, I have the feeling of flight. It almost seems to lift off the ground and glide and inch or so off the pavement. Ten minutes into a ride, as my heart rate quickens and breathing gets deeper, my pedal cadence picks up and my mind introverts a bit. I begin to think of things that I only consider on a bike and for the duration of the ride, my entire world becomes smaller -just big enough to accommodate myself, my bike and my thoughts. For a little while, I almost entirely forget the rest of world exists. This is how we should feel when we ride our bikes.
Full disclosure, I have lots of cycling products and a larger than normal collection of bikes. Carbon fiber road bike, fixie, aggressive cyclocross bike, couple of mountain bikes, hybrid and the lots of others. I have shoes and lights and helmets and plenty of kit. But the ride is not about that. Nothing wrong with cyclocomputers or GPS but I don’t need Strava to tell me if I am having a good time.
If you see me on the trail and I look distracted; if I am not wearing the latest thing in spandex; if you notice a conspicuous lack of speed or swagger but I still look perfectly happy; the reason is simple: I’m riding for me.
See you on the trail!
-Rob, The Bike Guy
It’s rush hour. You’ve hurried out the door with your travel mug and a head full of ambitions for the day only to meet with compacted traffic all the way to work. Then, as you’re waiting your turn at another stop light, you see him; that spandex-clad cyclist riding his bike along-side traffic. “Did he just pass me?’, you ask the dashboard. He’s inches from the cars, carrying his work clothes and computer on his back. ‘Is he crazy? He shouldn’t be out here. Who in their right mind ….? That guy could really get hurt,’ you think.
Imagine now, what the cyclist must think. As he passes car after car, heart rate racing, cars squeezing him further to the side. His ambitions for the day have been set aside. The commute will bring enough challenges of its own. He needs to watch out for every danger, remaining hyper-aware of motorists that could put him at risk. Still, he finds reason enough to leave his driveway with a bicycle rather than a car.
I am a bicycle mechanic and I spend my days in a bike shop. So, people often interrogate me about why cyclists ride where they do, why they ride when they do and who, exactly, do they think they are. It’s typically something like, “Do those guys on bikes think they own the road?” or “What is wrong with the cyclists around here? They must be crazy riding like that in traffic.”
I also get an earful from the other side. It’s not that cyclists don’t like cars; but drivers who are texting, talking on the phone or singing along with the radio while touching up make up at stop lights and finishing off their fast food breakfasts at the same time; pose a very real threat to cyclists.
While cycling to work is not as popular in Raleigh and Wake Forest as it is in many US cities, it is on the rise. More and more bicycles are going to be mingling with sleepy morning drivers and then joining them again for the ride home. It’s a mini adventure, a work out and a means of transportation rolled into one. But the growing popularity of bike commuters has brought with it some tension between those who drive and those who ride. What perhaps may be most needed, is common ground and some understanding of who, exactly, has the right of way.
So, when a motorist and cyclist meet on the street, who has the right of way? Both. Stop signs, stop lights, speed limits, pedestrian rights, cross walks, yield signs all apply to bikes. Bikes are subject to the rules of the road. Practically though, any collision on the road, even an accident at low speed, can have severe consequences for both bicycles and riders. To be fair, cyclists have to understand that cutting in and out around vehicles, ignoring traffic laws and riding irresponsibly, can not only put themselves and others in danger; it also gives cyclists a bad name and perpetuates the misunderstanding that a bicycle has no place on the road.
But why do it? Imaging if you could help resolve three of America’s most daunting problems; Cycling to work does exactly that. It addresses the oil crisis, American sedentarianism and the obesity crisis all at once. While thousands of gallons of gasoline are burned up as your community heads off to work. Bike commuters use none. So, the more that bicycles are used, the less critical the oil crisis seems. While most of the people you know live sedentary lives, spending their lives in cubicles and commuter cars; cycling makes a body move. It tones muscles, improves agility and relieves stress. Although heart disease runs rampant through our society, twenty to thirty minutes of low impact exercise each day can make a significant difference in cardiovascular health. Cycling to work a few days a week provides this. Last but not least, riding a bike to work can burn thousands of calories which helps maintain an advantageous body mass and it quite simply makes us healthier.
So when you see that guy on a bike in the middle of morning traffic, put your cell phone away and give him a little more room. It’s his road too. To be fair though, if you’re the guy on the bike, pay a little more attention to the motorists. There’s no reason to be a nuisance. There is plenty of room out there for all of us. As Raleigh and Wake Forest becomes more bike friendly, more people are going to be using bikes as basic transportation. Let’s look out for one another.
I’ll see you out there,
-Rob, The Bike Guy
POP, Psssst, Shaplunk, Shaplunk, Shaplunk: So You Have a Flat Tire
(How to Change a Flat Tire)
It’s bound to happen. You are out on an enjoyable ride, The sun is high in the sky, trees are full of color. Your bicycle is flying down the road or trail or greenway. As the world zips by, you pound out a perfect pedal stroke. Life is good. And Then, POP! Psssst…, shaplunk, shaplunk, shaplunk. Your tire has gone flat. Rats!
The good news is, you’re ready. It’d be foolish not to be right? Last time you were at the bike shop and the mechanic showed you the bike maintenance gear, you got everything you need. Whew, what a relief. Now, all you have to do is fix the flat. This is where a lot of cyclists have trouble. Everyone should be ready for a flat tire on their bicycle. Because as much as we would like it to, hope does not keep tires inflated. And flats are going to happen. And as soon as it happens, you have to stop your bike.
I’ve seen way too many people ride all the way to the front door of our bike shop with flat tires only to tell me that they have been riding several miles on a flat in order to get to the shop. Don’t do that. This often results in damage that cannot be repaired. I can ruin the tire, the tube, the wheel and (most importantly) it can injure you! So stop.
Now, have a look at the tire, is there anything sharp sticking out of it? I’ve seen just about every sort of thing that causes flat tires: nails, glass shards, little pieces of metal, thorns, briers, razor blades. I even found a tooth stuck in a tire once. Cool right? But usually, it’s something small, ferociously sharp and less ominous than a tooth. So let’s figure out what’s caused the flat. And be careful, it may be sharp.
Begin by looking over the center of the tire as you turn it slowly. Then, work your way around toward the sidewalls and eventually, inspect tire where it seats into the rim. Look for sharp shards sticking out of the tire, a hole in sidewall or blowout damage to the bead-seat.
Any sharp stuff has to be removed but take care on two details here. Don’t assume that the one you found is the only one. If you ran through a debris field (common in the Raleigh, Wake Forest, NC area) you may have numerous culprits. Best to find and extract all of them. In addition to this, take care to never simply throw the sharp object back onto the bike path. It’s just going to cause more flats for other folks. Better to throw it into the trash or stow it somewhere in your gear until you get near a trash can.
Or maybe there is no sharp object. Is it the sidewall? This aspect of the tire tears easily -especially if it’s old. Even a new tire can catch the side of a rock or curb though and blow right out. The fact is, if your sidewall blows out or if there is damage to the tire bead, you are going to need a new tire. And I’m guessing that you didn’t think to bring one of those on your ride.
If though, you find no thorns or shards or razors (or teeth) sticking out of the tire and the sidewall seems fine, you may have run over something that was ejected from the tire. Or, and this is pretty uncommon, you could have a problem with the bead of the tire just not being seated properly. But you can only know for sure by removing the tire. It’s a good thing that you brought your emergency maintenance kit just like the guy at the bike shop told you to do.
Or didn’t you? If not, it’s a good thing you brought the cell phone or good walking shoes. But let’s be honest, bike shoes are not good walking shoes. You’d better call Uber. What? Forgot the phone? Are you kidding me? Okay, go ahead; use the emergency money to use the payphone. Wait, do they still have those anymore? If you can’t find a phone and you are too far from home to walk (or your shoes aren’t up for it), you have entered the Samaritan zone and you are now at the mercy of the good will of others. I’m sure you’ll make it home and I am sure that next time you venture out on a beautiful biking day like this; you’ll have an emergency maintenance kit.
On the other hand, if you did bring a flat tire kit, let’s fix the flat! Go ahead and remove the wheel from the bike and then the tire and tube from the rim. If you don’t know how, then you are in over your head and I recommend following my former advice (cell phone, pay phone, Uber, Samaritan, good will and all that). In removing the tire, you may need those plastic levers you got from the bike shop but I recommend making a first attempt without them. It’s always smart to just use your bare hands to pull the tire off the rim. The tire levers are helpful in a pinch but sometimes they can damage the tube or tire and to be honest, the last thing you need is further damage to the bike. You’ve been through enough already.
Before I remove the tube though, I like to mark the tire alongside the valve (or make a mental note of its position). This way, if I find a protruding object inside the tire, I will know right where the hole is on the tube. Now, feel the inside of the tire for any sharp objects. Careful not to cut your fingers on them! If it’s there, remove it. The location of the shard or thorn in the tire, will be the same place you’ll find the hole in the inner tube. Can’t find it? No worries. Whatever caused the flat may be somewhere behind you on the trail and you’ll never see it again (Unless you ride home that way. So don’t ride home that way).
The easiest way to get going again is to simply replace the tube. Just put the old one in your pack or jersey pocket (you can throw it away later or take it hope to patch as a spare), set the new tube inside the tire -taking care to not have any sections folded or twisted. Then, reinstall the tire on the rim. Use the plastic levers only if you need them and only while getting the last little bit of the tire back on the rim. Always install on bead of tire completely on one side. Then, install the other. Then, carefully re-inflate the tube a little bit, make sure your tire is evenly set into the rim. Finally, continue inflating all the way to full pressure. You are ready to ride.
Didn’t go for the spare tube option? Then the patch kit is going to get you home. It’s either going to have a few heavy duty stickers or it’ll have a combination of patches, glue and something scratchy (a metal scratch pad or sand paper). The sticker-style patches are simple: make sure the surface is clean and clear or debris or water and center the sticker over the hole. It’s a pretty strong patch that should at least get you home but could maybe even last for years.
If you have the glue-patch kit. You’ll want to make sure the area to be patched is clear and clean, then rough it up the scratcher pad and coat it with a layer of the glue. Don’t put the patch on right away though, The glue needs to dry first. You’ll know it’s dry when its surface gets milky white. Then, you’ll simply lay the patch in place and reinstall the tube. The tube can now be aired up and the bike ridden immediately. This kind of patch can last for a long time. I had a road bike once who’s inner tube had half a dozen patches. I kept getting flats from debris in the road and didn’t want to have to buy lots of inner tubes. So I just kept adding more patches out of sheer bike nerdy-ness. And that single inner tube lasted for years. If they are done correctly, the patches are pretty dependable like that. Just patch and go. But most people prefer to install a new tube.
Of course, It’s not always this simple. But it almost always is. So many different things can cause flat tires that it can be one of the most frustrating things to deal with in all of cycling. But being prepared should make it much less frustrating. And there are so many products available to deal with flats that the hardest part of preparing for such occurrences is just narrowing down the choices and distinguishing between needs and wants. Just the selection of pumps alone seems endless. Should I get a CO2 pump, a micro-inflator, a frame pump?
I think that the best approach is to ask a bike mechanic. Then head to the bike shop to the See what they have and also ask them what not to get. You can also trust any advise you read in all books by Lenard Zinn or anything in the Park Tools, Big Blue Book of Bicycle Maintenance (which any Library or bookstore worth its salt is sure to have for inquisitive cyclists). You can also always call the The Bike Guy in Wake Forest, NC (919) 977-5164.
Prevention though, is the primary factor in flats. Nothing prevents flats as well as good tires and correct air pressure. But since flats are at least slightly inevitable, be prepared.
I’ll see you out there. And if I see you trying to fix a flat don’t worry, I’ll stop to help.
-Rob, The Bike Guy
Live by the Bike
Each of us are given only one life. Live yours.
Too many people don’t -at least not to the extent they could. For everyone who would live bigger, live better and would find for themselves a more meaningful, exiting, engaging existence; let me propose the bicycle.
It is a travesty that anyone would spend much of their life without one. Not that cycling is the secret to happiness. But it is a time-tested and life-proven approach to being happier. Since it is such a simple escape, with little more required than to simply sit down and move the pedals, I heartily recommend cycling to everyone I meet.
Years ago, it was popular for motorcyclists to say, “You never see a motorcycle parked outside of a psychologist’s office.” So, one day I bounced this idea off of a psychologist I know and it made him laugh. But then he became a little serious, the look on his face went from smiling to contemplative and he said, “You know what? That’s right, I have never seen a motorcycle parked outside my office.” Then we took the idea a bit further and realized that there is something else we had ever noticed outside of a psychologist’s office; a bike rack.
Now, I don’t have any meticulously developed scientific theories on how riding x number of miles over some certain distance with any specific frequency, will yield a carefree life. But I will say that comparing all of the cyclists that I know, with all the people I know who are not cyclists; the former are happier.
Want a great place to examine your life? On a bike. A life spent cycling, provides plenty of self-examination time. And sorting out the existential dilemma from a bike saddle at 20 MPH is a pretty effective way to make sense of it all. Life by bike is simply better.
Although a congested parking lot is daunting, a full bike rack is inspirational. While driving to the store is a chore, biking to the store is just plain fun. An hour on the treadmill? Boring. An hour ripping through the woods on knobby tires? Exiting. And by the time the ride is over, life tends to make a lot more sense.
Jumping on a bike is a great way to throw a rotten day out the window. It lets us shed worries, release the day’s tensions and be happy for a while. When viewed from the bicycle handlebar, the world simply looks better. Go ahead throw a leg over your bike and you’ll see what I mean.
