The title of this post sounds like a nickname for a serial murderer. “Hill Killer” is actually the name of a bicycle apparel company in Hampstead, Maryland.
I haven’t bought bicycle-specific clothing, save for helmets and gloves, since I gave up my racing fantasies. I wouldn’t, however, mind riding one of their jerseys for my ride on this day, Dia de los Muertos.
And, of course, like any good gringa, I will eat Mexican food after my ride!
For as long as I can remember, someone has predicted the demise of the local bike shop. The first "threat" came from mail-order giants like Bike Warehouse/Bike Nashbar, Bikecology/Supergo and Performance. They offered high-end frames and components at lower prices (including shipping) than your neighborhood dealer--if indeed it carried those items or could order them.
Later, the death-knell for The Village Spokesperson or its equivalent was supposed to have been sounded by Internet retailers--some of which, of course, were the online incarnations of mail-order firms. Often, their prices were even lower, and their selections greater, than those of mail-order or brick-and-mortar businesses because they didn't need the warehouse space of mail-order companies and, well, because of sheer volume: A human doesn't have to be present when you press "click" to order that helmet or GPS device or when it's dispatched.
Indeed, some shops closed their doors when mail-order companies became known even to once-a-month, seven-months-out-of-the-year, cyclists. (Older mail-order concerns like Cyclo-pedia had much smaller, though very loyal, markets.) And others ended their runs when they couldn't keep up with Internet retailers, or when the COVID-19 Bike Boom went bust.
But there were a few factors that kept other bike shops in business and encouraged the establishment of new ones. One is what a remote shopping experience, whether via the US Postal Service or World Wide Web, could not offer: personal service. While most mail and online retailers offered fit charts and guides for bikes, helmets, shoes and other items, they could not replicate the experience of trying them on in the store. A related factor is the relationships cyclists build with trusted bike professionals: For example, the folks at Bicycle Habitat understand my riding style and preferences, and how they have changed. Also, they and other shops I have frequented have offered me discounts as a repeat customer, so I find that I save little, if any, money when I shop from a screen.
And let's face it, people like me simply feel more comfortable going to proprietors, mechanics and other shop personnel we've known for years or even decades.
That last factor explains why some analysts and casual observers are again sounding alarms over "the death of bike shops." The cycle brand Canyon has announced a partnership with REI Co-op.
Now, that doesn't mean you'll find Canyon bikes or accessories, or even a demo fleet, on your local REI showroom. Rather, those stores will only handle warranty claims and do repairs--at a 20 percent discount for REI members-- on Canyon bikes. In other words, REI is taking on two vital parts of a relationship between a bike buyer and shop. I rarely have to go to a shop for repairs (only when I don't have the tool and can't justify buying it or, as when I bought Dee-Lilah, my custom Mercian Vincitore, I wanted an assembly job from someone who loves and appreciates Mercians), but it's good to know that I can get advice and answers from someone with expertise and that, should I have a warranty issue, someone can handle it for me.
I think those are particularly important issues for customers and riders of Canyon, a direct-to-consumer brand. Few, if any, did a pre-order ride or fit, so I am sure that some ordered the wrong size or type of bike for themselves or someone else. I would likewise assume that many Canyon customers have done little, if any, bike repair work and thus didn't assemble some or all of the bike properly.
Moreover, at least a few Canyon riders, like other cyclists, are also hikers, campers, skiers or participants in other outdoor sports. Thus, they would feel comfortable going to REI: Indeed, they may already be customers or even members. On the other hand, they may be new to cycling and thus feel intimidated by bike shops, especially the ones that cater to dedicated cyclists.
All of that said, I don't think Canyon's partnership with REI will mean the end of bike shops as we know them. But it could change the ways in which at least some cyclists get service, even if it begs the question of whether REI would hire or train mechanics--or press salespeople into fixing bikes.
