Andy Laub

Sometimes I’ll look around and think I have too much stuff. And it’s true – I have a lot of stuff. We have a lot of stuff. No, it’s not an episode of Hoarders when you walk in the house, but it’s just… a little overwhelming sometimes.

Most of the time this feeling comes and goes, but occasionally it reaches critical mass and drastic measures are required. There was a period of time after buying my LeMond in which I owned three bicycles. I don’t think I ever tried to convince myself that this was logical; I think I just tried to ignore it. At a certain point it became clear the Bianchi was purely excess and was no longer a necessary possession, so I sold it.

When I was still in school and basically didn’t have any money, being able to own things was a sort of goal. And while owning things continues to be nice, I’ve also become somewhat attracted to the idea of only owning the “right” amount of things. In essence, carefully managing both the quality and especially quantity of what I have.

That’s why I’m willing to take somewhat of a hit when selling an old (in the sense of having been made redundant) bicycle or iPhone or television. True, making a little extra money is nice, but whoever buys whatever I’m selling is also doing me the favor of getting it out of my life.

At some point in December my left brain and my right brain finally got together on something and concluded that owning two cars is neither practical nor enjoyable. The Miata was fun for awhile, but I really just got kind of sad when thinking about it because I didn’t feel like I was being a good owner. And of course, having two cars means maintaining and insuring two cars, and while the Miata was never a burden, it was definitely excess.

So I sold it. Or planned to sell it, anyway. At the same time, the Saab has been getting long in the tooth, and without the Miata my sole car would be one with an automatic transmission and a lot of miles. So I decided to sell that too. This could have turned out really badly, with one or both cars languishing on Craigslist until I desperately accepted the first offer I received. Worse, I’d miss out on a car that I wanted to buy because of my self-imposed “all cars must fit in the garage” policy.

Miraculously, this was not the case. In what has to be the best Craigslist experience I’ve ever had, I managed to buy a car and sell two others in a span of four days, and actually be pretty pleased with how it all shook out financially. But what really makes me happy is that instead of having two marginally good cars, I now have one car that I can really get excited about.

Here in Wausau, the bike shop of choice is Rib Mountain Cycles. They’ve established themselves as having the most knowledgeable staff and some of the best product. I feel like I have a decent rapport with them, which is not something I can say about any of the other shops in town.

And that’s why I felt so guilty when I bought my Bianchi in 2007 – a bike I chose to buy over the interweb even though it was available locally. As is often the case, the bike as it was online was still hundreds of dollars less than RMC’s price, even after shipping and tuning. And being as the Bianchi was a niche bike, and one I didn’t particularly need, my reasoning was this: it wasn’t a tossup between buying the bike online and buying it locally; it was between buying it online or not buying it at all.

As a penance I resolved (again) that my next bike would be a local purchase, and assuming I won the lottery, it would say “Specialized” on it – a brand I’ve always liked sold by a shop I’ve always liked.

Well, I lied. All of the joy that accompanies getting a new bike turns to sheepishness when you walk it through the door of the shop you didn’t buy it from. At least with the LeMond it’s an easy excuse: RMC doesn’t sell the brand; RMC doesn’t sell a cross bike with disc brakes at all, much less one that I could afford. They even complimented it (that still makes me smile, even nearly two weeks later)!

I feel singled out in this experience, but it’s unrealistic to assume that the crew there doesn’t deal with this sort of thing on a daily basis. Cyclists are a finicky bunch, and a single shop can’t reasonably hope to be everything to everyone. So instead, Rib Mountain Cycles finds success in being a bike shop that is fun to go to; one where the staff is so nice and helpful that I want to spend my money there. And considering it’s biking that we’re talking about, there’s always an excuse.

My friend Gary bought a cyclocross bike. This is not news, because it happened nearly two years ago. It’s a Bianchi Roger, a single-speed road frame with beefed up components (and disc brakes!) perfect for traversing muddy trails and grassy knolls. But equipped with a set of slicks it became a formidable commuter bike – light, strong, and fast. But while there was a lot to like, certain bits left me wanting. Most of what it did (albeit with less weight) was matched by my own single speed; the two were simply too similar to ever logically share a garage.

It was last summer that I started to be more and more enticed by road riding. I looked at plenty of road bikes, but none really stood out as “the one”. These would be ideal for commuting but also for longer ventures that just weren’t practical on my Bianchi. Or at least, that’s what I told myself. At the same time, I’m not denying that I’m rough on my bikes, and I feared for the safety of a road bike under my ownership – which is why I started looking at cyclocross bikes again. Then I found the Trek Portland – basically the Roger with gears. But I wasn’t a fan of the Shimano Tiagra components on paper, and the price was higher than I was comfortable with. Still though, it was about 90% there, and I was tempted.

At first sight…

One day I wandered over to LeMond’s site (a subsidiary of Trek, focused solely on road bikes) to admire them as I often do. It was then that I discovered the LeMond Poprad, and I was smitten. While the Portland is billed as a commuter bike, the Poprad is a CX bike through and through. Many of the components are similar (Avid BB7’s, again!), but the Poprad uses Shimano 105 throughout the drivetrain (with the exception of the Bontrager crank). Instead of aluminum, the frame is steel, which means the tubes are skinnier and the whole frame is more classically proportioned than the Portland and Roger. And the graphics were timeless.

So the Poprad became my dream bike (which is not doing too badly considering it’s not the same price as a car), but alas, the price was similar to the Portland’s, and still more than I was willing to part with for a bike I wasn’t sure I needed. And then the colder weather set in, and my love of all things two-wheeled went into its annual hibernation.

Now spring is (almost) here and I’m in better shape than I ever have been, and I’m itching for some longer rides. The first ride out on the Bianchi, while nice, wasn’t as satisfying as it could’ve been. I just had that nagging feeling that I was using the wrong tool for the job. After obsessing over the new offerings for 2009 on the various manufacturer sites, I was left wanting. Some were close, but nobody – not even LeMond – was making the bike that I wanted.

Google delivers

So it was purely happenstance, then, that I was searching for the Poprad on Google, with very low expectations. The odds of finding one seemed relatively hopeless – there are no local LeMond dealers, and Trek/LeMond have an agreement with resellers that while the bikes may be purchased online, they may not be shipped; only picked up at the store. Plus it would have to be a good price, and most importantly, it would have to be my size.

But somehow the stars aligned, and I found a shop selling a brand new 2007 Poprad (which actually is slightly more attractive than the ’08 in that it only has a 9-speed cassette instead of a 10-speed and can accommodate a wider, more durable chain) for a great price. I almost fell out of my chair when I saw they were located in Minneapolis. Okay, maybe not – but I’m pretty sure I swore. A barrage of emails later, and they were holding the bike for me so I could make the trip over and check it out.

Less than a day later I was driving home from Minneapolis, my new Poprad tucked safely in the back of the car (on top of the dining table from IKEA – I love hatchbacks, by the way). The shop I bought from, Freewheel Bike, was nothing but helpful, and I highly recommend them for anyone in the area.

How is it?

I think it’s great. Unfortunately Wisconsin has felt the need to assert that it’s not spring just yet and given my aversion to cold, I am off to a slow start in terms of mileage. But the rule of thumb I’ve adopted is that I need to put at least a mile on for every dollar that was spent, and I’m committed to that. In the meantime, I’ll sit and stare at my bike on Flickr (or glare at weather.com); it will have to do.