Chris Writes.

There are plenty of smart & talented people who have lots of things to say about bicycle design.  There are also plenty of incredible bike designers that spend their time designing, and don’t often spend much time waxing romantic about how great their designs are – they are far too interested in their work to waste time talking about it. But there is one other area in all this, the design of the bicycle business itself, that is rarely talked about explicitly, though often complained about.

Every industry has a bell curve of attrition, in one form or another.  I could go open a pizza joint, or a coffee shop, or an auto repair shop, and my competition becomes a combination of the others around me offering similar stuff, and my own ability to not screw things up too badly.  And in a twist of that adage of “everyone, eventually, is promoted to their own pinnacle of incompetence”, there is some sick economic theorist that will have predicted that the bulk of the competitors will thrash about at or near the level of subsistence, while the least talented will fall away, and the most talented will be the subject of much envy and scorn.  Banks are, if you’ll pardon the pun, a prime example these days.

Bike shops, and the bike industry as a whole, seem to revel in this bell curve of poverty. Sure, there are plenty of bike shops and bike companies that have vanished in the past year.  There are also plenty that have sprung up in their place, and some that have done very, very well for themselves.  Despite what some might have you believe, we do not share any similarities with the Facsimile Machine Manufacturing and Retail Selling Industry from 2002. The bicycle industry churns year over year, in a largely predictably annual cycle, and chances are that while the product designs will continue to innovate and improve in the future, the industry itself will maintain itself within a similar business model. By this, I mean that brands will design their bikes, factories will manufacture on behalf of these brands we know and love, those brands will then sell mostly to independent dealers, those dealers will sell to customers, and the products will mostly be released on an annual model-year cycle.  There are myriad small departures from this, but this is the foundation.

If you’re wondering why I think the business model itself won’t change much, here’s why: a massive shift towards online sales is unlikely, if only because customer product education, fit, and repair services rely heavily on in-store interactions.  A massive downturn in interest in cycling seems similarly unlikely, environmental concerns are just one reason.  I could be wrong in either of these assumptions, but I think they are safe bets in the near term, say the next 5 years.  Exogenous forces that I’m also counting on: no massive global currency crisis, no military conflict between Taiwan & China (since they manufacture all this stuff), and no protectionist shocks, like massive increases in import duties.

No doubt, there will be shining examples of success – both regional and global, some short term and some lasting.  At the product level, the actual product design will play a massive role in the companies that succeed.  This has been true in the past, and it should not come as a surprise to anyone that it will continue to be true. This is the most hotly contested realm of design, and the most visible – especially given the model year cycle we operate in. We want and expect that the 2010 model to be superior to the 2009 model.

But at the business design level, where companies and retailers alike experiment with alterations to the way they interact within the overall business model, there have always been (and will continue to be) massive opportunities that ultimately shape the long term success of the companies or shops that do well.  If we take the overall model as a given, then redesigning our place within it can allow for some massive behavioral changes.

Two examples of what I mean, first at the manufacturer level: SRAM started as scrappy startup in a garage (sound familiar?), and fought a long, hard battle to convince cyclists at every level, from newbie to pro, that twisting their hand to shift was an improvement over thumb and finger-operated levers.  Over time, they made their impact, but this single product innovation was not their raison d’être. Stan Day and his crew of talent at some point shifted from the standard suite of inductive/deductive logic tools – what is, or what will be – and instead they started thinking abductively, about what could be.  At some point, SRAM stopped being a quirky shifter company, and became a bicycle component juggernaut that could rival Shimano on every level.  It wasn’t long ago that Shimano’s stronghold seemed simply untouchable.  Now, it’s been years since Shimano’s last Tour de France victory. Last year, SRAM won their first Tour de France.

This is one of many examples of Business Design hard at work in the hard-working bike industry.  It’s cultural as much as it’s strategic: I know many people at SRAM, and they’re all far more interested in designing what’s next, rather than deciding what’s next.  The difference is subtle, but critical.  It takes one level of acumen to assess a situation, brainstorm options for what to do next, and then decide which option is best.  It takes an entirely different level of acumen to assess a situation, and then look forward in a way that combines past wisdom with a blank slate of limitless future options.  If SRAM had simply focused on decisions, we’d likely have a narrow range of very good twist shifters.  Instead, their design centrism means we have a new & massive range of component options that have won World Cups, Tours de France, Olympic medals, and retail sales floor space.

Second, at the retail level, the bike shop is changing – not at the transaction level, but at the far ends of the spectrum: how they interact with suppliers, and how they interact with customers. Now common, B2B systems for dealers to manage orders and inventory were rare only a few years ago.  But even more critically, a shop’s connection with their local community was historically tied to their conversational skills and their ad in the yellow pages.  Now we have bike shops with rabid fans on facebook and twitter, and the very best of them have altered their transactional relationships into behavioral relationships by organizing rides, skills clinics, seminars, and even trips.  They’ve redesigned the bike shop into a social hub, a clubhouse, or at the absolute top level, a big pile of united friends.  Think for a moment about how different this is from a place like, say, Radio Shack, where you might walk in, buy 4 batteries, and leave, not knowing (or really caring) if you ever go back there again.  Bike shops used to be there.  Now, the very best have redesigned their businesses to be something closer to an extremely hip club.  But here, it’s not product that the shops are designing.  It’s interactions – and these interactions rely on keen understanding of validity, which is another key difference between the shops that fight in the froth of subsistence, versus those who are far ahead of the chum.

These very best bike shops, whether explicitly or implicitly, understand the difference between reliability and validity.  It does not take a savvy shop owner or staffer to look backwards at their past sales data and conclude that a certain percentage of their business caters to an urban city-riding commuter segment, and then make pre-orders and sales floor allocations based on those analytics.  However, this backwards look at the data is merely reliable – it’s been true before, so the assumption is that the trend will continue.  Statisticians call this linear regression, while those who look at actual human behavior call it anything from ‘distracting’ to ‘utter bullshit’.  The savvy shops are those who stay focused on conclusions that are valid, based on a wider array of data, even if it doesn’t easily import into a statistical model.  Consider a shop who just had a 150-unit housing development and 14 miles of bike lanes installed in their community: should they be more or less concerned with their past urban bike sales data?  The world is full of changes that are not reflected in historical analysis, no matter how rigorously it was conducted.

The conclusion to all this is simple: the bike industry (and other healthy industries) will continue to thrive in aggregate, and the complainers will complain in disproportionate volume because those who succeed are likely fewer in number, and also likely to be far too busy to spend time bragging about their good fortune.  And the aggregate success, across all levels of the business model, will probably bring about a wider and newer array of cool new stuff that we’ll all want.  And then we’ll go ride bikes, and the sun will shine, and we’ll trade high fives and knuckle bumps, and share a pint afterwards with a $4 burrito.

Life is good; don’t let anybody tell you different.

Hey all you marketing-types and human factors fans: If you aren’t already familiar with QR codes, you will be eventually, and probably soon.  As one of a zillion glittery new technologies in the eternally-rolling-in fog of things to (re)learn, it’s not really worth mention on it’s own. But there are two points I think do bear mention:

1. There are real applications of this stuff happening here.  now.
2. Despite years of popularity, especially in Japan, they’ve not yet caught on here because the reading technology has not been natively supported by cell phones in North America (conspiracy theorists: this is your cue!).  Curiously, this same excuse has persisted long past the point where the cell companies entirely lost control of this monopoly on the features of any individual device. With free & paid apps for iPhone, Android, and probably dozens of others available, anyone who wants it can have it, for free, now.

Remember when checking email on a phone was revolutionary? The entire landscape has changed, yet again.  We’re about to tip from a point where people said “My handheld can’t do that.”, to a point where people ask “How can my handheld do that?”.  The difference is both subtle, and seismic.

Technologies, like replicants, are either a benefit or a hazard.  Difference between us and Deckard is that if they’re a hazard, they’re not our problem.

I need your magic.

This has nothing to do with bicycles.  It’s just livin’ life.

I am allergic to cats.  That, alone, is typically enough to cement an opinion upon regarding all things feline.  For those of us afflicted by this common allergy, cats fall into one of two categories: house cats that make your eyes water and skin itch for hours, and larger cats that look at you as if to say “do you include dipping sauce?”.  I, through nothing more than angelic luck, seem to have discovered a third.  A category of cat that neither requires antihistamine with your daily coffee, nor wishes to eat you, and as an absolute bonus, contained a delightful personality that could perhaps be described as an extremely co-dependent and highly territorial version of Dot, the impossibly energetic cartoon character from Animaniacs. Curious yet refined, this Siberian breed actually lacks the gene that makes the bit that people are allergic to.  It’s basically magic, which worked in my favor, since she was a 14-year veteran of the girl I’d fallen for, and have since moved in with.

I’d never lived with a cat – Dad would have no part of it (due to allergy, see above, and maybe some other things, but who can be sure?).  He extended his allergy into a humorous animosity, but it wasn’t until I moved to Los Angeles and was introduced to my dear friend Steven’s wonderful cats that I had really started to grasp the concept of a cat as a family member.  I’d seen it with dogs, but somehow that seemed more tangible, more obvious.  Living in LA, I spent many a late night working on websites at Steven’s place, with at least a couple of his cats in close proximity (not to mention antihistamines, and gin martinis).  They were as much a part of the environment as I was, and they had rights that trumped any I might have earned.

MOSFET - 1994-2010

MOSFET was always her mom’s cat – there was no doubting the fact that she played favorites.  With 13-ish years of seniority over me, there ain’t no question that’s the way it was gonna be.  But I got through here and there, we had our moments, and we’d achieved a harmony where I’d earned the right to scritch her behind the ears, but mostly only if Mom was busy or not home from work yet.  Or if I had the kitty hairbrush. Somehow, I’ve got a knack with that thing.  When frustrated (or maybe when just bored, hard to be sure), she did her best to remove the carpet with her claws, especially when she wasn’t getting whatever it was she wanted (whatever that was).  And if I had a nickel for every time the phrase “cat-like typing detected”, I’d be able to purchase the hardcover collectors-edition of her gibberish novel many times over.  She did like to walk on keyboards, if only because Mom so often has one on her lap. She was a lover of sunbeams, and attacker of shadows. She slumbered with us, ate with us, and shed most of her hair on a specific area of the apartment.  She hissed at the vacuum cleaner anytime I pulled it out; clearly evil.  She knew exactly how she wanted the world to be, and it involved much tuna, napping, and attention.

It’s a sad day today – she passed away with her mom at her side this evening.  The apartment feels askew, and there’s a collar that is missing a kitten. We’re running through photos, sharing stories of this kitten that would take regular 3am sprints through the apartment for no apparent reason, and toasting her awesomeness with expensive scotch.  This officially crossed the line into family, and the loss feels real – the typical chirps and mewls she’d offer up when either of us got home are notably absent.  But I’ll be damned if she wasn’t the best cat ever. I mean c’mon – I wasn’t even allergic to her.  Clearly magical.

For a collection of awesome photos of this awesome feline, check here.

Clearly, I’m not the only one who will write a list like this.  Heck, I’m not even close to the most qualified to write a list like this.  I’m offering it up as a short retrospective, if only because this has been an excellent year of riding my bike (amongst other notable feats, like moving in with a girl for the first time).  There have been many rides, thousands of miles, and lots of hills. The death ride was tackled yet again, I rode a full stage of the Tour de France a few days before the big boys came through, and yet I missed the Tour of California on account of being home sick.  I raced cyclocross, and finished fourth not once but twice.  And through it all, I’ve managed to get through another year without seriously injuring myself.  Cheers to that, eh?

Pilarcitos CX #4 - photo credit Gnat Harris

So as a tech-geek gear hound, I thought I’d draft up a list of my own personal top products of 2009 – awards of sorts, for bike-related products that I’ve felt were the best items I’ve added to my quiver of bikes, or to my cycling closet, in the past 12 months.  Feel free to leave comments telling me what I forgot, or what I should try in 2010.  Happy new year to all.  May 2010 bring even more great rides and great memories.

Best wear-always piece of gear: Rapha wool baselayer.  These ultra thin merino wool baselayers are softer than the edge of a rainbow, and contain some sort of new zealand magic that perfectly regulate core temperature.  I treated myself to a three-pack of these, and I’ve worn one on every ride since then.

Best season-extending piece of gear: Rapha softshell gilet vest.  Two points for Rapha; I bought two items from their catalog, and despite the cost, they’re worth every cent. The softshell gilet vest fits perfectly, cut high in the front waist so it stays flat when you’re riding, the pockets are perfect and plentiful, and its an ideal layer for those days that are on the precipitous edge of discomfort.

Best retro-cool gear: Avid Shorty Ultimate cyclocross brakes. Leave it to the guys in Chicago to take what was supposed to be an antique technology (cantilever rim brakes) and redesign it in a way that makes even the most ardent gear hag drool blood. Weightless, beyond powerful, and cleverly adjustable to account for rear heel clearance, these are what every Grafton and Paul brake from 1996 dreamed of being.

Best wore-it-out-so-bought-it-again gear: Specialized All-Conditions Armadillo Elite tires. They’re race-worthy tires, not as elegantly compliant as a cotton-casing perhaps, but entirely capable in, as the name reads, all conditions. The secret joy of these 700c rubber circles is the Armadillo Elite puncture-resistant ply under the tread, which adds something like 20g per tire, but means that you’ll not likely ever puncture.  As winter tires, or simply as insurance year round, the thrill of being glass/thorn/tack/nail-proof is something I can’t recommend enough.

Best Finally-got-around-to-it gear: BG Fit.  Ok, technically not gear, but worth it’s weight in whatever your currency, this year I finally got it together and got myself professionally fit to my bike – the same fit trusted by the pros on Team Saxo Bank, and soon, some of those Astana guys too.  Read more about my fit experience here, then go find a Specialized shop that can do it for you.  Astonishingly better.

Best new nutritional supplement: Optygen EFS Liquid Shot.  Discovered this in the schwag bag of Levi Leipheimer’s gran fondo in NorCal.  A tasty, slightly thinner viscosity gel in a easy 5oz flask, this stuff was aces as I nursed it along the 100-mile course, and finished without cramping or any stomach upset.  Definitely ideal for those long days in the saddle.

Best New Awesome Gear: SRAM XX.  I used to race a 2×9 setup when I was racing mountain bikes, and I’m a big fan of the 2-ring setup for dedicated XC riding and racing.  SRAM has taken that idea, and a dozen other absolutely elegant design tricks, and created a dedicated XC racing group that is without parallel.  Favorite details include the shifters and brakes sharing a bar perch, the massively powerful brakes, and the OMG light 10-spd cassette.  In every way, incredible and worth the acclaim it’s earned.

Best post-ride brew: Lagunitas IPA.  California, while entirely screwed in many ways, does have a fantastic beer advantage over most of the rest of the world, with arguable cases to be made for Oregon, Belgium, Germany, and Czech Republic.  Post ride libation choices abound, and there are plenty I enjoy, but like a favorite old t-shirt, there is something fantastic about it that keeps me going back, again and again, never disappointed.

Best speed-enhancing product: Zipp 404 wheels.  I’ve had these for a full year now, and I can’t imagine living without them.  It’s the hollow sound they make as they roll underneath me, the unflinching rigidity they add to my bike, and the absolute badass-ness they add to my bike’s appearance.  Plus, in a cross wind, they’re like having a sail tacked perfectly in the gust, pulling you along as if some sort of divinity lived in your hubs and was hamsterwheeling you forward, off the front of the group.  Bonus points for my “skullz” wheeltags, which make them even more extra badass looking.  Sometimes, they make children cry, just on appearance alone.

Best extravagance: Campagnolo corkscrew. A birthday present from my sweetheart, this monstrosity of a corkscrew makes short work of the cork from any Brunello or Barolo, no matter the vintage.  The chainring bolt pivots are a subtle but polite nod to the cycling foundations of this marvelous bit of metalwork, and it never fails to elicit oohs and aaahs from visiting dinner guests.

Best battery-powered gear: Garmin Edge 705*.  A single unit that tracks GPS data along with heart rate and cadence, this admittedly bulky computer probably offers more power than the first PC I owned, and it’s an absolutely incredible way to track ride data.  An asterisk is added because I have reservations about the mount design, which breaks all too easily, but they’ve since updated it with a more robust version that I’ve heard is good, but I’ve not yet tried myself. Also, the new Garmin bike computers rely on a totally new mounting system, which looks pretty solid.