February 26th, 2018:

	The Omloop Het Nieuwsblad and Kuurne-Brussels-Kuurne races have 
come and gone for another year.  Bicycle races are really an acquired 
taste... much like watching fishing or golf on TV, you really have to be 
into the sport to appreciate it.

I like cycling.  I enjoy riding my bike: running errands, exploring, or 
just riding aimlessly.  I enjoy commuting to-and-from work, even when the 
weather isn't as nice as one would like.  I love working on my bikes, and 
I love customizing and upgrading them.

I'm a member of several cycling groups online, mostly people like myself 
who enjoy riding and tinkering.  There are a few who are *really* into 
the training aspect and racing, who have all the latest equipment, road 
bikes that weigh less than the dust on my laptop screen, who are all about 
pushing their limits and constantly trying to improve their performance.

The vast majority of these "roadies" are cool people.  I've learned a 
couple of tricks and techniques from them to use while on my daily commute 
(such as not to whistle or "half-whistle" while I ride, instead 
concentrating on my breathing), and have shared a couple of tidbits of my 
own regarding city cycling and shortcuts.  Some roadies, on the other 
hand, have a rather elitist attitude towards those not sharing their... 
dedication to the sport.

I have the elitists to thank, more or less, for my learning to fix my own 
bikes.  Roughly twelve years ago, I made a committment to ride my bike 
whenever possible, and, not knowing much about bicycle mechanics, I took 
my bike to a highly rated bike shop on the other side of the city.  No 
appointment was necessary, so I hopped on my bike and rode across town to 
the shop.  An hour-and-a-half later, I arrived at the shop.  I walked in 
the front door with my bike (as per the sign on the door), and was greeted 
with a combination of amusement and derision by the group of guys in full 
kit who were congregating by the front counter.

Now, I'm usually pretty thick skinned and can hold my own when the insults 
start to fly, so I brushed it off.  As I approached the front counter, the 
guy behind the counter (whom I later found to be the owner) turned purple 
and yelled, "Get that fucking piece of shit Wal-Mart bike out of my 
shop!".

I approached the counter with my best half-smiling "I'm about to murder 
you messily" look, slammed my hands on the counter, and said, "It's from 
Zellers.  From 1985.  And if you're not going to help me fix and tune it, 
or help me find a new bike to replace it, I'm going to find someone else 
who will."

The guy laughed and said, "I'm still seeing this piece of shit bike in my 
shop.  I thought I told you to get it out of here!".

"I'll leave, alright," I replied, "so you can save face in front of your 
hangers-on."

So I left, to a chorus of laughter.  I rode to another bike shop not far 
away, who were more accomodating.  After speaking with the staff, I 
learned that the previous shop was considered the "pro" shop, and that my 
experience wasn't unique.  They didn't elaborate, an undue professional 
courtesy I thought, but I was relieved to have found a shop that'd work 
with me.  Within a year, I estimate I'd spent a few grand in tools, parts, 
etc and, I made sure to post a picture of everything I'd bought to social 
media, tagging the "pro" shop after every purchase and saying, "Here's 
another sale you lost".

The "pro" shop closed its doors a few years ago.  Not because of me, mind 
you.  It suffered the same problems facing most local bike shops these 
days: online ordering, and how-to resources online.  However, he might 
have stuck it out a little longer if he'd made the human connection and 
offered his expertise (which was immense by all accounts) to those who 
sought it.

These days, I do the vast majority of repairs and maintenance myself.  I 
have a LBS (local bike shop) that I love, and much like the hacker 
community, am always willing to share what I know with others (and learn 
what I don't).

--

This was originally going to be a reaction to solderpunk's post on 
connoisseurship [1], but I kinda got carried away once the memories came 
flooding back.  I still get angry over the bike shop encounter (can you 
tell?), and at some point I'll have to let it go.

So, tomorrow, connoisseurship.

Until then...

[1]gopher://sdf.org:70/0/users/solderpunk/phlog/against-connoisseurship.txt