Inadvertent Plagiarism

Yikes. I was looking at the latest issue of Mountain Bike Action at breakfast this morning and noticed a full page spread for Specialized, prominently featuring the title of this blog - A Singletrack Mind - as part of the ad copy. I feel really dumb now. I have to wonder if I had seen that before and subconsciously remembered it when trying to come up with a clever tag line. I DID have the presence of mind to Google the phrase before putting it up there, and came up with virtually no hits, which surprises me in light of the ad mentioned above. Oh well. Now taking suggestions for replacements.

Dear Local Bike Shop

Dear Local Bike Shop,

I am a typical avid cross-country rider. I would like to give my business to you. You are people I know, who do good things on the local riding scene. You have the best intentions and skilled wrenches. (Well, mostly.) You sponsor races and maintain trails that I ride in and on. You are my neighbors. Why would I ever want to give my money to Jensen or Performance Bike or whomever on the net, rather than to you?

Well, there are some good reasons.

First, let's set expectations. I do most of my own maintenance. Yes, I'll take the bike in for major operations that are beyond my tool set or abilities or patience, such as replacing a headset or building up a wheel. But I'm going to do ninety percent of the work myself.* That is not going to change.

Since I'm going to do most of the labor, if you want my money, you have to be willing and able to supply me with the parts and supplies I want. Not the parts you happen to have in stock in your meager selection and want to sell, mind you, but the parts I want. I will listen patiently as you try to talk me into or out of something. You see and hear a lot that I don't, and have a broader perspective. I respect that, and hearing it is part of the reason I go to your shop. But if I decide to stick with my original choice, please humor me and order it without pushback. Honor my experience as a rider. Maybe you can huck eight foot drops or bunny hop a park bench. I can't, but that doesn't mean that I can't tell the difference between climbing my favorite pitches on 34 tooth big cog vs. a 32 tooth one, or that I don't have a good first-hand reason for specifying tire compound A vs. tire compound B.

When you order my part, you are going to have to do it at a speed and at a price point that is within a rough stone's throw of the speed and price I'm going to get on line. No, I don't expect you to match sale prices on the net for special-order items. I am willing to pay a reasonable premium for personal service and advice, and to support local business. But if every usual suspect on-line is selling the pedals I want for fifty dollars plus twelve bucks for 2-day shipping, don't insult my intelligence by telling me that you might be able to have them for me in ten days if I'll give you $89.95! In short, wake up and smell the Internet.

Please respect the fact that if I'm looking for a particular item, I probably know a little bit about it. At the same time, consider the possibility that you don't. I don't expect you to be an expert on the thing that I happen to care about on a given day. I DO expect you to admit it if you're not. So if I come in looking for cool-weather tights, don't give me the absurd line, as one principal at a major LBS did a couple of years ago, that "You never see tights with a chamois any more. I'm not sure anyone even still makes them." (What I hear: "We don't happen to have any, so I'm going to try to hoodwink you into buying what we do have.") Be aware that much - not all, but much - of the special secret knowledge that used to be available only to those who apprenticed for years in the bike mechanics' guild is now accessible to anyone with some determination and a broadband connection. You may not like that, but it's reality.

Finally, if I am going to favor you over on-line vendors, even though you charge a bit more, and even though I have to schlep over to your store to place the order and schlep over there again to pick it up, it's going to be because you give me better service. That means you actually have to give me better service. When I go to my local book shop, they can order me any book that's in print and have it for me in a few days. When it arrives they call me immediately to tell me it's arrived. If it's on backorder, they tell me that before I place my order. Why can't you do that? Instead, you grudgingly consent to special-order me a part at a high price, as though you were doing me a big favor. Then you tell me it's going to take over a week to arrive. Then the day comes when I'm supposed to be able to pick it up, and you don't call. On a good day, I will remember to call you, and you will tell me that you have lost my work order, or that the distributor did not have the item available, or that you ordered the wrong thing, or that the item came but that you "haven't unpacked the order yet," so I will have to wait another day. On a bad day, I will find one of these things out only after I've driven out of my way to your store. This, Dear Local Bike Shop, is not better service. This is pure motivation for me to click "Add this item to my cart."

Sincerely,
q



* By the way, I'm going to do my wrenching in a way that answers my particular needs and fussinesses in a way that you can't, simply because you don't know me and my bike like I do. When I replace the hanger, I'm going to put fresh Loctite on the changer's main pivot bolt, because I happen to know from experience with my derailleur that for some reason it always comes loose. I am quite a good amateur mechanic, and I've been doing it since nineteen seventy-seven. If you're 20 and have been wrenching for a couple of summers between terms, you are better and faster than I am at certain things, but please don't patronize me with that exasperated "you'll end up bringing it back to us to fix your mistakes" look. More likely the reverse: I will end up re-doing YOUR work to accommodate my quirks and those of my bike.