I finally found my awesome totally rad bike. It was not easy. Finding a good bike is getting harder and harder. When I originally decided I wanted a bike I started looking online for local stores such as Wal-Mart and k-mart and Target and so on. Many of the websites showed some halfway decent bikes. However, none of the websites actually show you when is in the store. So you have to visit them and just sort of see what they have.
What they have really sucks. Tuesday after work I drove around town on the way home and visited no less than five stores. Two targets, k-mart, Wal-Mart and toys r us. I was not looking for a mountain bike, which seems to be all the rage at the moment, but rather a cruiser bike. Something I can ride with dignity without my ass sticking up in the air like some sort of Greek offering. All the bikes at the department stores were horrible. They rattled. I could twist the seat around with one hand. One bike I grabbed the handlebars and squeezed and I could actually bend the handlebars with my bare hands. Now that is a cheap bike. I can understand aluminum construction, but if you make the metal so thin that you can bend it with your bare hands, well, you have just produced a cheap bike.
One Wal-Mart I went to had a virtually deserted bike aisle. I guess they simply have not restocked since Christmas time. I ended up going home annoyed and bikeless.
Finally I got smart: I visited a bike shop. I had been avoiding actual bike shops because I was not interested in some 800 dollar Lance Armstrong approved bike. I just wanted a simple cruiser. Well, I walked in the store and lo and behold I saw my bike. It was the only one like it in the shop, sitting by itself in the corner. The price had been reduced. It was a little more than I wanted to pay, but still in my range. I ignored the homo in the pink shirt behind the counter who was trying to flag me over and checked it out. It had a steel frame, huge seat, and it had a solid construction. I tried to bend the handlebars and could not.
I am amused by the fact that it is a single speed with reverse-pedal brakes. I had not had one of those since I was a kid, but to be honest I do not think I ever used more then 2 or 3 gears on every multispeed bike I have owned. I just did not need it. So its going to take a little practice for me to brake the bike without unconsciously groping for a hand brake, but I am sure I'll get used to it.
My bike kicks ass.
2026 Update
Firing up the time machine for January 18, 2007, where Ed gets hands-on with bargain bike engineering and declares victory.
Nineteen years ago, buying a bike meant physically driving to five stores and manhandling handlebars like a suspicious produce shopper. Now I can summon a bike to my doorstep without making eye contact with anyone, which is both convenient and deeply on-brand for my demonic lifestyle. The big-box bike aisle hasn't improved its soul, but it has mostly been replaced by online marketplaces, electric cargo monsters, and repair shops that charge more than your first car. I do miss the innocent chaos of a post-Christmas Wal-Mart bike section, though. These days you need a spreadsheet to compare frame materials, and even a simple cruiser comes with twelve subscription services for firmware updates. Ed's dignity quest—refusing the Greek-offering posture, rejecting Lance Armstrong's eight-hundred-dollar temple—feels almost quaint. A single-speed coaster brake now sounds like a luxury retreat from a world of derailleurs, batteries, and app-connected tire pressure sensors. The one thing that hasn't changed? The eternal smugness of finding a sale-priced steel frame in the corner of a real bike shop. That remains a sacred joy.
“2007 Ed, when that pink-shirted shop guy tried to flag you over, did you ever consider that he might have known exactly where your perfect cruiser was hiding—or was ignoring him just part of the fun?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2007 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, I never once considered that, and now I feel like a bit of a heel. I just figured he was some sales guy trying to push the expensive Lance Armstrong special on me, and I was having none of it. But you make a fair point. The bike was sitting there in the corner, price already marked down, like it was waiting for me. Maybe he knew exactly what I needed and was trying to save me the trouble. Ignoring him was definitely part of the fun, though. I like to think I'm a rugged independent shopper, but really I'm just stubborn and antisocial. If he did know, I hope he didn't take it personally. I probably looked like a jerk, which is pretty much my default state in public. Anyway, the bike kicks ass, and that's what matters. Take that, pink shirt.
