"And then you just press this button with your thumb to go toward the harder gears," said Peter, the owner of Barney's Bicycle, said as he demonstrated how to use the integrated brake/shifters.
I'd love to say that with that simple, bike jargon-free explanation, he sealed the deal with me on the stunning new Fuji Sportif 1.7. That's almost exactly what I say to my son when riding with him and trying to get him in the right gear. Make it harder. Make it easier. I have no idea what high gear or low gear or what numbers they are.
But by then, I had already made up my mind in two ways--I was leaving that bike shop with a bike that day, and Barney's had sealed the deal months ago.
Barney's operates a new bike shop at Park Avenue and Coes Street, and keeps open its old shop for used sales and repair (It's called "Chandler Bike" now). Chandler Bike is a revelation. The used bikes, I have come to realize, are ridiculously overpriced. But they have an impressive array of do-dads and oddball parts in all different sizes for even the most obscure projects. They are friendly and courteous, and humor people like me who have the most harebrained ideas with the most godforsaken bikes.
The good service extends to the new store, as well. They have no qualms about selling you a few bearings or cable crimps or bar end plugs. It's a nice, airy place to be.
So once my wife gave me the go-ahead, I knew my first-ever new bike experience at a bike shop would be Barney's. I don't have much experience with other bike shops, but I enjoy the easy-going feel to the place. It lacks any hit of the elitism that infects so much of the cycling world.
The Fuji was the cheapest road bike available at Barney's. I wasn't necessarily approaching it that way, but it was certainly a factor. I wish they had more options in my price range, but I guess that was the compromise I made when I decided I wanted to buy the bike from a particular shop. That said, it appeared to be a good deal on that particular bike.
It sports Shimano Tourney-level shifting and braking components. That's the lowest teir of Shimano's offerings, surely scoffed at by the carbon fiber types. But it's all relative. The Peugeot is a friction-shifting 10-speed mountain bike made in France in the early 1980s. The light years of progress I made just by moving up to modern braking and indexed "brifter" shifting give me no real reference point from which to judge. I just know it's better.
And that's how I wanted it, in many ways. When I bought the Peugeot two years ago, I wanted a used, basically functioning bike to re-learn cycling on. Some part of me wanted to "learn the old ways" so I got a full appreciation of how a bike worked and functioned.
Friction made me a better rider, I think. It requires much more organization and planning about what gear you want to be in at any point in time. It's a deliberate, gradual mechanical system that relies a lot on feel. Does it feel like the chain is solidly in gear? Do I need to trim it back a little? Is it worth shifting right now?
I absolutely love the new system. Shifts are smooth and crisp, and it's an easy system to learn on. It becomes intuitive after one ride, and I'm impressed with how the front derailleur action, typically the toughest part of shifting, functions. If I had to guess the difference between the Tourney set I have and something like Ultegra or Dura-Ace, it's probably something to do with more crispness, maybe faster shifts, or maybe a more robust feel. But who knows? Maybe I'll find out someday.
What I really love about the Fuji is the frame. It's beautiful to look at, and that blue paint was a major draw. Bikes seem to be either black or white or silver these days; I specifically wanted a splash of color. I am going to have to ride this bike every day; I want it to be pleasant to look at.
From what I've read about the Fuji Sportif, the all-aluminum frame is the same geometry as the high-end carbon Fuji Gran Fondo. It leans toward the comfort end of the road bike spectrum, and I can confirm it's a spectacularly comfortable bike.
It's a big bike, at 59 cm, but I wanted it that way. It feels like I can really stretch out while riding it, although on the hoods I perhaps stretch a little too much. I may try a slightly shorter stem (the XL Sportif employs a 110 mm stem, which is pretty long), which I think will make it perfect.
It rides quiet and smooth and light, and again, it's all relative. But I can't seem to get enough of my new blue Fuji. I took it up over Aiport Hill the other day, which two years ago I would never have even attempted. I never felt that nervousness that I was going to stop or fall over or go backwards. The bike just pulls, and I think I finally realized what bike dorks talk about when they say "acceleration."
Worcester has famously bad roads, and I cringed a few times going over some unavoidable ruts. The Fuji has an aluminum fork, which is fine, but I immediately realized why the bike dork community always recommends chrome-moly or carbon forks. They just soak up the bumps better.
It's a big bike, at 59 cm, but I wanted it that way. It feels like I can really stretch out while riding it, although on the hoods I perhaps stretch a little too much. I may try a slightly shorter stem (the XL Sportif employs a 110 mm stem, which is pretty long), which I think will make it perfect.
It rides quiet and smooth and light, and again, it's all relative. But I can't seem to get enough of my new blue Fuji. I took it up over Aiport Hill the other day, which two years ago I would never have even attempted. I never felt that nervousness that I was going to stop or fall over or go backwards. The bike just pulls, and I think I finally realized what bike dorks talk about when they say "acceleration."
Worcester has famously bad roads, and I cringed a few times going over some unavoidable ruts. The Fuji has an aluminum fork, which is fine, but I immediately realized why the bike dork community always recommends chrome-moly or carbon forks. They just soak up the bumps better.
It's a great bike, but then again, I think the conventional wisdom these days is that most new bikes made today are great bikes. Of course it's more than that. This awesome little bike is a dream realized. Something I visualized happening. It represents my full immersion into something I've become quite passionate about. I love riding my bike, and I love bicycles. I love what they've done for me, physically and mentally, and I love what they represent about life, society, and good, healthy living. There's nothing like the sights, sounds, smells, and physicality of riding a bike. It has helped me learn so much more about my city and my area, and so much more about myself.
That's a whole lot of emotion and philosophy packed into a Chinese-made 23-pound amalgam of aluminum and rubber and steel. But it doesn't matter so much when you're out on the road. Nothing really matters as much, really. It's volume gets lowered as you concentrate on the road ahead. When's the next turn? Will I have to take the lane? What's the hill situation over there? Can I get a tailwind, or is Mother Nature messing with me? Do people really throw this much glass out the window? How much pot are they smoking in that car? Those are the only questions that matter out there. Just you and the bike. Communicating.
That's a whole lot of emotion and philosophy packed into a Chinese-made 23-pound amalgam of aluminum and rubber and steel. But it doesn't matter so much when you're out on the road. Nothing really matters as much, really. It's volume gets lowered as you concentrate on the road ahead. When's the next turn? Will I have to take the lane? What's the hill situation over there? Can I get a tailwind, or is Mother Nature messing with me? Do people really throw this much glass out the window? How much pot are they smoking in that car? Those are the only questions that matter out there. Just you and the bike. Communicating.
