Hey Neighbors,

Jay here.

A few years ago I bought a Trek 520 from an old lady for ninety-eight dollars. I’m fairly certain it's from 1990. Which means I was 16 when it was made and I was 32 when it was 16 and I’m about to turn 52 and it’s 36. Lugged steel, clearance for huge tires, rack mounts on the fork, the kind of bike that was built to ride from San Francisco to Halifax with a tent on the back. I don't ride it across continents. I ride it over Twin Peaks and on the trails in Marin when I have time. Jerry picked it up for me from the old lady in Noe Valley. It had been her husband's. She didn't say what happened to him and Jerry didn't ask. The bike had been in a garage for I don't know how long. Long enough that the tires had taken the shape of the floor, long enough that the rubber on the brake hoods was no longer rubber, long enough that whatever care he'd put into it in 1990 had become whatever neglect followed when he stopped riding.

People come into the bike shop every day “But I only paid $75 for this bike!” when given a high repair estimate. These things are connected.

This reminds me, a few years ago, a customer asked me why a 30 year old used bike cost the same as a new bike on amazon. “You’re not taking into account the cost of Chinese slave labor and the extractive, brutal global capitalism all the way down.” She frowned, “You must be fun at parties.” She came back a few weeks later to apologize (repair) and I told her there was no need. I thought it was the funniest thing I’d heard in years.I am fun at parties. It costs money to repair the negligence of our stupid fucking parents and their stupid fucking parents. It costs money to shimmy around extractive capitalism. Lunch costs money.

I heaped a bunch of that money into my Trek and started the grind of the work. Cables, housing, fresh hand-built wheels, headset, bottom bracket, chain, cassette, tires, bar tape (I changed the bar tape 4 times…ok, Ayla changed the bar tape 4 times), brake pads. Some of that was over a weekend; most of it was over a year of evenings. None of it was particularly impressive or fancy (ok, some of it was fancy). It was just the list of things that had to happen for this once great bike to be a great bike again.

The ninety-eight dollars was the lie. The bike didn't cost ninety-eight dollars. It cost ninety-eight plus two thousand plus a year of my evenings, and that's what it cost in 2026. 

This is much of what mechanics actually do. People bring us bikes that have been somewhere else for years (in a garage, on a hook, in a basement, behind a couch) and we read what we find. Every bike in the stand is an accumulated record of attention or inattention, mostly inattention, mostly not the current owner's fault. Some kid loved this bike in 1995 and then went to college. Some guy commuted on it for a decade and then got a car. Some dad bought it for his kid who outgrew it. Some old guy rode it every Sunday until he didn't. We don't usually know the story. We just know what a chain looks like when nobody's wiped it in five years, and we know what it's going to cost to get it back. The best mechanics are pessimists - they see all that can and will go wrong. Ask Joel.

The work is the same as the work on my own bike. New cable. New housing. Diagnose the noise. Set the limit screws. Index it. There's no special version of mechanics that applies only to your own things. You learn the moves, you do them slowly, you don't make it worse, you keep going until the bike does the thing it was built to do.

A few months ago a customer pushed back on some work we'd done and I was a grade-A asshole about it. (If we'd been right I might've been a D-grade asshole. We were not right.) He was gracious about it, more gracious than I deserved. 

I gotta get to work on that too. But let me finish this first.

I don't know what happened to the guy who had my trek in 1990. Like I said, Jerry didn't ask (Jerry wouldn’t). The old lady didn't say (this isn’t even about her but maybe sometimes it is) . The chain he didn't oil has been replaced. The cables he didn't change have been changed. The wheels he didn't ride get ridden over Twin Peaks on Sunday. He would probably hate the bar tape. Anyway.

- Jay

The work of Scenic Routes is repairing your bicycles (and giving Jay a platform to let out his poetic expression), yes, but, perhaps more importantly, it is creating spaces for our neighbors, friends, and staff to exist, express, and enjoy their lives. 

We will be closed this Friday, May 1st  for international workers day. Every member of our team is getting a paid day off. We know it's a bummer if you had a flat to fix or a part to grab. But a shop that says it's a bunch of anarcho-socialist worker centered kooks has to actually act like it, and may day is a pretty good place to start.

On Saturday, May 2nd, we will be co-hosting a deaf/hard of hearing inclusive community bike ride with Ironman athlete, Chella Man. We will roll through the park while talking, making connections, and enjoying the gift of movement. 

Meet at 10:45 at 521 Balboa Street, Roll at 11:00

On Sunday, May 3rd, we will be hosting our monthly Quercus Family Bike Ride, where we will lead everyone to the Ready 2 Roll Faire at Roosevelt Middle School. There will be a bike swap, a bike circus, bike decorating, and so much more! If you want to roll with us, 

Meet at 9:00 at the LOVE blocks on JFK, roll at 9:15. 

At the end of the day on May 3rd, we will be drawing the winners for our Quercus Bike Raffle to benefit mutual aid in Minnesota! You can read more about that and enter below.

On Thursday, May 14th, we’ll be leading our second annual “you’re invited to our birthday party” Night Moves Community Bike Ride. Come join me (Ayla) and Jay, while we ride up Twin Peaks, eat cake, and make our friends wear silly hats to celebrate being another year older. That's 24 for me and 52 for Jay. 

Other than that, all our normal events are going strong. Flat fix and rotating mechanic’s classes, community bike rides, and our monthly community night. Is there something else you want to see within the doors of 521 Balboa Street? Let us know, it's our favorite kind of work. 

We’ll see you soon :)

And until then, you can check out our Calendar below.