Bicycle shops striving to be community hubs

At Bicycle Revolutions, just off South Street, baby clothes and original art share retail space with fixed-gear bikes.

At Cadence Cycling & Multisport Center in Manayunk, you can have your cardiovascular capacity tested or the store opened off hours for a personal shopping spree.

There is a shop in Orlando where you can watch basket-weaving exhibitions; one in Washington that will wash your bike clothes while you work; and in Austin, Texas, Mellow Johnny's offers showers for commuters and a chance to rub elbow with Lance Armstrong, the shop's owner.

As the $6-billion-a-year bicycle industry continues to mature, the nature of the independent bike shop is evolving as well. Once almost uniformly cramped, crowded spaces with a full range of bikes and an employee or two doing repairs, shops now boast award-winning store designs, individual "philosophies," and services that seem to have little to do with pedaling around town.

"It is happening nationwide," said Dan Mann, founder of the Mann Group, a retail consultant that specializes in the bicycle industry. "And it's not just people following trends. Bike-shop owners tend to be fiercely independent, very entrepreneurial. They are going where they think their customers want them to go."

Some shops are finding specialized niches. Trophy Bikes in West Philadelphia, for instance, has targeted bike commuters. Others are looking for ways to become the neighborhood hangout.

"It is all about customer segmentation," according to Elliot Gluskin, an industry analyst, referring to the practice of catering to narrow segments of a broad market.

And the bicycle market is beyond broad these days, ranging from BMX bikes to mountain bikes, recumbents to tandems, bikes for road racing, bikes for commuting.

Finding that something extra that brings your customers in the door, and keeps them there, is especially important in an industry known for tight profit margins, Mann said.

For the folks at Cadence Cycling in Manayunk, that means offering a range of high-end bikes (some selling for upwards of $8,000, financing available), top-flight equipment, and clothing as fashionable as it is practical.

"Everything we offer is first in its class," said Luke Bunting, retail sales manager.

Aiming at a well-to-do customer base that extends across the Schuylkill, up into Gladwyne and beyond, Cadence also offers a full-service training facility for runners, swimmers, and cyclists, complete with $750-a-month, pro-level coaching packages.

Its coaching staff is led by Brian Walton, a former professional cyclist and teammate of Armstrong's, who, for a fee, will serve as a personal trainer and riding companion.

Bicycle Therapy on South Street offers less-structured rides, free and led by shop owner Lee Rogers, a longtime fixture on the local cycling scene who has worked to turn his store into a refuge for other enthusiasts.

He installed a wide and deep service counter, fronted with stools, to encourage lingering. On any given day, it might be populated with customers waiting for repairs, bike messengers eating lunch, or neighborhood types flipping through cycling magazines.

"I wanted to create an area of comfort for people when they come here to have their problems solved," Rogers said. "You might like your car mechanic, but you probably are not going to want to hang out and have lunch with him. Here you might."

While Rogers says he came to the strategy on his own, it echoes a concept of community building labeled by urban sociologist Ray Oldenburg as "the third place." Home and work count as two central places in a person's life, Oldenburg argues. "The third place," then, is an area of comfort and community that keeps a person coming back. The concept has been promoted by retail anthropologist Paco Underhill as a marketing strategy for businesses.

Which brings us to Bicycle Revolutions, a small, relatively new bike shop on Fourth Street near South.

It is owned by Bryan VanArsdale, a bearded, tattooed former bike mechanic who first came to Philadelphia to attend art school. He caters primarily to the urban hipster crowd, drawn to the single-speed track bikes (no gearing, no brakes) favored by bike messengers and art students these days.

The shop's Web site declares its intention to be a "warm and welcoming environment that connects artists and bicycle aficionados with other folks who share common life interests."

Bicycle Revolutions has monthly art openings and a rather eclectic range of products for sale. The standout is the infant wear, cute onesies, some with bike themes, most not.

"There is some oddball stuff," VanArsdale acknowledged. "Mainly, it is stuff being done by my wife or other artists. We are just trying to promote stuff that people are doing. And it seems everybody in our circle and customer base are having babies. So why not?"