Our Mission Statement

Answering the usenet post below, I realized I came as close as ever to creating that "mission statement" thing that everybody says you have to have. --Mike--

> I discovered a real Bike Shop in my area. After so much reading on
> this Newgroup I actually realized that the bike shop I was going to
> was not the same kind of bike shop you all were talking about.  So I
> found one in Montclair NJ. I am very familiar with this town...yet I
> did not know anything about this shop. I saw the TREK bikes you speak
> of, and all the equipment you talk about. I talked to a person who was
> on a team. It was fascinating. I also realized that bikes can cost a
> freakin' fortune. It was a real education I'll tell ya. Now maybe I
> will understand a little more when reading these threads.
> BECAUSE.......Sometimes while reading I feel like I am lost in space.
> I never try to comment on things I do not understand. I let go of
> trying to be a pompous idiot years ago.  I plan to visit the shop more
> often just to talk to people. The cyclists in there were fascinating.
> Just like this newsgroup. ;-) I am really glad I found the shop.

A "real" bike shop isn't the one with all the fancy bikes and cool displays and perhaps especially not the one frequented by team folk (it could be, but it's often not).

A "real" bike shop is the one whose primary mission is to get you out on a bike, an appropriate bike for the opportunities in your area.

A "real" bike shop is more interested in understanding your dreams than yakking about their own recent accomplishments.

A "real" bike shop wants to make sure that, whoever you are, the most painful thing you can do is walk past your bike and not be able to ride it. Maybe something's not quite right with it- a little gear adjustment, perhaps the stem's a bit too long, whatever.

A "real" bike shop tries to make sure you're as comfortable as possible bringing it back into the store when something like that is the case, because they find it terribly painful when a customer brings a bike in four years after they bought it, with virtually zero miles on it, because some little, easily-correctable thing made it no fun to ride (and they worry about how many other bikes sit in garages, unridden, and not known about, for the very same reasons).

That, to me, is a "real" bike shop. It's not easy trying to be that shop, but it's a lot more rewarding. I often wish I could do a better job being that kind of shop, but just defining it once in a while (like now) helps me to keep focus.