An inspirational point in my life came in junior high during a Twisted Sister music video. The dad shouts, “Whatta you gonna do with your life?”. Son replies, “I Wanna Rock!”. That was me, because I wanted to rock so bad. I tried having Robert Plant hair in 9th grade and even bought a harmonica so I could bust out “When The Levee Breaks” around the campfire. My Levi jeans were littered with heavy metal bands poorly written in ink, I had the 12 albums for 1 penny deal going and Deep Purple was still putting out good music.

What I slooowwwly came to realize, was that the musician gene skipped my side of the family. I sang like a rooster, never really dug the harmonica, and when I tried to keep a beat on the kitchen table, my parents just told me to quit trying to play Neil Peart rifs and eat my chow mein.

So there I was looking for a profession, looking for my calling. Being a cyclist wasn’t an optional career, because it was just something every kid did. What did I want to do with my life?

I left the extremely gratifying industry of food preparation at age 19 to work in a bike shop. Bikes were always cool, so why not do something I liked? The learning curve was steep, but I eventually learned the difference between a hammer and vise grips. I was well on my way to adjusting front derailleurs with BioPace rings.

At one point, I led a dual life of bike shop employee by day and bike shop employee by night. Working at two different shops simultaneously didn’t seem to bother the shop owners, so plugging in 60-70 hours/week with bikes just got me closer to my real goal of working in a bike shop, forever.

A brief stint in Colorado made me realize I wasn’t the next John Tomac, so I returned to work on the wholesale side of the bike industry back here in Minnesota. Then a little devil on my shoulder convinced me to go to engineering school in Oregon. I was a glutton for scholastic punishment for 3 years, until I realized there was more to life than moments of inertia, like homebrewing, riding my bike and trolling for companionship.

Then along came Surly to sweep me off my feet. A place where riding a lot is a prerequisite. A place where I can use my school textbooks to find out the properties of an aluminum can shim. A place where we can go from conversations about frame geometry and fork rake to chort reports and saddle sores. What more could one want in a job?

Bikes have gotten me everywhere I’ve needed to go in life. Get lost on a bike and find yourself.
Nick Sande
nick@surlybikes.com

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