The Best Reason To Close A Shop

Forty years ago yesterday, a bike shop was closed for, possibly, the best reason any shop could have been closed on a Saturday during the summer—on the last weekend before Labor Day, no less.

How do I know about that closure?  I worked in that shop. In fact, the day before was my last day there. 

On 27 August 1983, I accompanied the shop’s owner, his soon-to-be wife and a bunch of our friends and customers on a chartered bus from New Brunswick, New Jersey to Washington, D.C. The purpose of the trip? To join many, many more people in commemorating the 20th anniversary of the March on Washington:  the one that includes Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I have a dream” speech.

Actually, the anniversary was the day after our trip—a Sunday.  But that didn’t make a difference to those of us who participated—and those who supported us.

Among those supporters were, not surprisingly, Black city residents who gave us sandwiches, snacks, fruit, water, coffee, tea, juice, sun visors and other things that helped us on a typically hot, humid day. I couldn’t help but to wonder how many of them were there—or marched—during the original rally, which took place a few weeks after I turned five. (OK, you can do the math, if you are so inclined!)

Today, on the sixtieth anniversary of the March—and the day after the fortieth anniversary of the best shop closure in history—I can’t help but to wonder how many of the people I saw that day, let alone how many marched in the original gathering, are still alive.  To the best of my knowledge, the shop’s owner—Frank Chrinko—and Wendy Novak, the woman who would become his wife, are still very much with us—and should be lauded for having the best reason to close Highland Park Cyclery on a day when, I think, they could have made a decent amount of coin.

They Couldn't Keep It Clean

When I worked in bike shops, customers brought in bikes with problems I couldn't have imagined.

Note:  "Mudguards" are, to the British, what we Americans call "fenders."

Precisely

In a shop I frequented, a mechanic wore a lab coat and stethoscope while working on bikes.  

That was just one of his eccentricities. Turns out, he’s not the only mechanic I knew who viewed his work in medical terms: Another, who also owned a shop where I worked, told us that bearing surfaces should be “surgically” clean before lubing then.

Ironically, yet another mechanic of my acquaintance went to medical school and never talked about his work in that way. In fact, he didn’t talk about his work at all.

In case you’re wondering how the first mechanic in this story got a lab coat and stethoscope: His wife was a nurse in a nearby hospital.

A Rock Ring? It Sounds Heavy!

As I've mentioned, I worked on and off in bike shops from the mid-1970s until the mid-1990s.  In one of those shops, I came across a bottom bracket lock ring  tool from Hozan.  Like other tools the Japanese company manufactured at the time, it looked sturdy and functional, if not as refined as its Campagnolo or even Park Tool counterparts.  

But it wasn't the finish or design that I remember.  Rather, it was the package.

It's easy to dismiss "Rock" as a simple typo.  But there are still Americans who mock the Japanese for their difficulty in pronouncing the "L" sound which, as I understand, doesn't exist in Japanese.  So I wondered whether the importer or whoever packaged the wrench was upset that some "Rittre Reague" kids from the Land of the Rising Son beat his son's baseball team in a tournament. 

Discounts—And Free Housing

 Listen to the news, and you’ll hear employers recount their woes in recruiting workers.  Some are offering incentives, such as cash bonuses  and flexible schedules.

And housing.  At least one employer—a bike shop owner—is offering his next mechanic free use of a house he owns.

Some might think that having some of the world’s most breathtaking scenery as a backdrop to one’s riding—and anything else in one’s life—might be reason enough to take a job at Cycles of Life in Leadville, Colorado.  And, of course, there are the added perks of industry discounts and the opportunity to blend passion and profession.

Turns out, those last two bonuses don’t carry as much currency as they once did.  Cycles of Life proprietor Brian Feddema placed a classified ad for a head mechanic/service manager nearly a month ago in Bicycle Retailer And Industry News (BRAIN).  He is offering free use of the 500 square foot house, within walking distance of the shop, in addition to pay of $20-25 hour and spring and fall performance bonuses, partly in the hope of casting a wider net.  “There is no one currently residing here in Leadville with the knowledge, skill set and drive we need,” he explained.

He once had a mechanic who stayed for seven years until “he moved away with his girlfriend.”  But, he said, mechanics typically stay for a couple of years because “most don’t consider it a profession.”

Jenny Kallista, president  of the Professional Bicycle Mechanics’ Association, said this is the first time she’s heard of an offer like Feddema’s. Ron Sutphin, the United Bicycle Institute president, “can only recall one recruitment offer that included housing.” That one, he said, “was some time ago, in Hawaii,” where the notoriously-expensive housing market is rivaled (at least in the US) only by San Francisco, New York and Los Angeles and perhaps a few other cities.

In addition to the reasons Feddema articulated, I can think of another why he’s offering free housing.  It has to do with another “perk” he can’t offer:  Bike mechanics and shop service managers can’t do their work remotely.

Malfunction

“I was turning a corner,” when “the wheel bent.”

If you have ever worked in a bike shop, you probably have heard equally-strange and improbable explanations from customers of what brought them, and their bikes, to you.

But you probably haven’t heard this one: