If you have ridden bikes for long enough, you might be familiar with the n+1 formula, where “n” is the number of bikes you currently own, and where “n+1” is the number of bikes you should own. When I first heard about this, I might have actually scoffed under my breath. How many bikes could one person possibly own?? It turns out that I was a short sighted fool, as the lure of n+1 is just too tempting to resist. Over time, the number of bikes in my possession has steadily increased, not that I’m complaining. Over the years, I have had a lot of fun with my different bikes, and each of them has a different meaning to me.
1. Trek FX (hybrid bike)
I bought this bike the summer after graduating high school, before my freshman year of college. I distinctly remember feeling excited to own such a nice bike; the bikes of my childhood were from Walmart and Target, and the Trek FX was from a legit local bike shop. It was a joy to ride, with 24 gears, semi-slick tires, and very cute accent colors (blue and brown on white). The Walmart and Target specials had always felt a little off, but on the Trek, I felt like I was floating on air.
I rode this bike to commute to campus, and on longer weekend rides. Once in a while, I rode with my friend Kelsey, but after she transferred colleges, I wondered: what if I made more cycling friends? With this hope in mind, I got in touch with my college’s cycling club, and showed up at their designated meeting spot one Saturday afternoon. That day, one other person showed up: a white male roadie, decked out in full cycling kit. We introduced ourselves and began riding. I remember it was a sunny day, and there wasn’t much car traffic. I also remember cruising along, watching him speed ahead, and not knowing what to do. I didn’t think I could pedal any faster. Was he really going to surge on ahead, over and over again? To his credit, he did stop every so often, waiting for me to catch up.
When we returned to campus, he said something like “I know someone you could ride with, she’s got a bike like yours.” But at this point, I was too ashamed to speak. Did this mean I didn’t belong in a cycling club? Was I a fool for trying to meet other cyclists? I didn’t have answers for these questions. I went home that day, didn’t try to join another cycling group for the rest of college, and found joy in solo riding.
2. Giant XTC (hardtail mountain bike)
After college, I moved to Colorado Springs, CO, for work. This was a very exciting life transition for me – not only would I be starting my adult life in a new city, but I would also get to ride my bike in Colorado. I wondered what Coloradan cyclists were like, and in order to learn this firsthand, I started volunteering at a local bike co-op. From here, I met people who also liked bikes, and got to learn more about the local cycling community.
One group I learned about was WMBA of COS (Women’s Mountain Bike Association of Colorado Springs). They immediately stuck out to me. A lot of groups in town seemed geared towards retirees, or aspiring pros. Seeing as I was neither, WMBA seemed like my best option. The only issues were that I didn’t own a mountain bike, nor did I know how to mountain bike. A trip to my local bike co-op solved that first problem, and soon I was the proud owner of a new-to-me hardtail mountain bike. Sure, it was outdated, with 26″ diameter wheels, grip shifting, and front coil suspension that I couldn’t activate at first. But to me, it was the most hardcore, trail slaying bike I had ever owned.
I hit the trails, but they hit me back. Time and time again, I would crash. I would try to pick myself back up each time, but it was hard. Bruises bloomed on my legs and would linger for weeks. One day, while I was out window shopping, an store employee asked me: “Are you in an abusive relationship??” I tried to explain that no, I was just a mountain biker, but she didn’t seem to believe me. Either way, mountain biking was definitely taking digs at my shins and my ego. So I tried to enjoy the hobby for what it was, just enjoying the outdoors on a bike.
3. Cannondale Topstone (drop bar gravel bike)
My Colorado life continued on. I rode my bikes, changed jobs, made new friends and watched them move away, and then proceeded to make new friends again. I began my first forays in bike touring and bikepacking, something I had dreamed about since getting my Trek. I became a ride guide for WMBA, and spent my summer Thursday evenings guiding mountain bike rides. It felt good to encourage other women, and I found myself spending more time with the club.
Over time, I noticed that a lot of WMBA members had full suspension mountain bikes, tricked out with the latest technology. Their suspension in the front and rear, 29″ diameter wheels, and dropper posts helped them go faster and more confidently over obstacles. They also looked really sick – but I asked myself, do I really need a full suspension? Many people with full suspensions seemed to love the mantra “fast is fun”, but I preferred the phrase “my own pace is fun”. This realization left me questioning if I should try to be faster on a mountain bike, or if I should just enjoy biking in my own way.
The latter felt a lot more appealing. So, while reminiscing on my hybrid bike days, I did some research and ended up with a gravel bike. I liked the frame’s aerodynamic geometry and drop bars, and the knobby tires looked sturdy enough for off-road detours. I quickly fell in love with this bike, riding it to work, around town, and on gravel roads. I took it to an adventure cycling event, Ruta del Jefe, and met people who also loved this style of riding. Some of them were women of color, which was incredibly encouraging. The memories of this event return to me each time I look at my Topstone, and I hope to make many more memories with it.
4. Surly Bridge Club (all road bike)
Shortly after Ruta del Jefe, the itch to do more bike stuff returned to me. The question was, what should I try next? Some of my friends loved racing bikes, and some of them loved wrenching on bikes. I wasn’t too sure about bike racing; it sounded like an easy way to earn more bruises and pay visits to a physical therapist. So I decided to try my hand at wrenching. I had long since set my sights towards bike travel/bikepacking, a discipline of cycling where speed is optional, beautiful views are abundant, and long snack breaks are essential. This set me off into a rabbit hole of bike research, looking up which bikes would best suit long days in the saddle – what materials I should consider, frame geometry, tire size, drivetrain specifications. There were a lot of factors to consider.
I ended up purchasing a Surly Bridge Club frame off Facebook, described on Surly’s website as an “all road touring bike for any destination”. The steel frame would be bombproof, and the countless mounts on the frame and fork would allow me to carry as much gear as my heart desired. The instant I saw it, I knew it was perfect.
But the fun was only just beginning. Obviously I could not ride this bike until I slapped the other essentials, like wheels and handlebars, onto the frame. So with the help of a few bike mechanic friends, I dove headfirst into researching bike parts, exploring all my options. The sheer number of choices made my head spin. What kind of brakes would be best? What gear ratios should I choose? How would I even assemble the bike, when all the part buying was said and done? I almost felt like I was in engineering school again, analyzing specs and numbers. But at the same time, a lot of these choices came down to emotion – how does it feel? What does one prefer? This combination of logic and emotion doesn’t always come together in one hobby, and yet cycling pulls it off anyways.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, I called on the help of my local bike co-op. They helped me source parts and complete the build, and before I knew it, I had a beautiful steel bike to call my own. This bike will be perfect for almost any off-road bike adventures, and I’m already daydreaming about where I will take it. Even though these trips might be physically and mentally tough, I’m sure the pink accents I added will be encouraging.
5. ???
n+1 is truly a magical philosophy, only limited by your amount of storage space and willingness to maintain a fleet of bikes. I love seeing how my bike friends have embraced n+1. They inspire me over and over again to enjoy my own style of riding. I’m not sure where else my n+1 journey will go; maybe I will get a full-suspension bike someday, or go full hipster with a fixed gear. I could even get a penny farthing, if I really wanted.
The point is, if someone wants to start cycling, there is a bike and a style of riding for everyone. From beach cruising to crit racing, and everything in between, there is no one way to enjoy riding a bike. All it takes is the desire to hop on the saddle, grip your handlebars, and start pedaling forward.
Eunice Wang 