There is more than one way to ride a bike
When I was eighteen I moved to the great city of Chicago and enrolled in a media arts school. What I made up for with naïve hopes and dreams in this new urban landscape, I lacked in transportation. So I went to “Nearly New Bikes” and the proprietor asked me if I wanted “a nice one” or a “not so nice one?” The “nice one” was an old lugged steel frame 27-inch wheel 10 speed Japanese made Sanwa, and $200 bucks.
That was the first bicycle I ever bought with my own money. Shortly after I got a job as a bike messenger, got a few more bikes, and in the process fell in love with being on the road. I was drawn to the rush I got from navigating traffic at high speeds, and the pure freedom I felt from being able to carry myself wherever I wanted on a machine that I powered and was uniquely my own. And of course riding along the Lake Shore Drive pathway in summertime Chicago is one of the great road bike rides out there.
Nowadays you won’t find me speeding up and down the Lake Shore Drive pathway in Chicago, but suffering up climbs in Pisgah National Forest, and hollering and holding on down intense descents. I’ve been living in Western North Carolina for just over a year, and my first legitimate mountain bike ride was here in our breathtaking National Forest.
I made some friends who dragged me out to Pisgah every chance they could- whom I am forever grateful for- and each time I went out there it felt like I was being thrown into the Lion’s Den, riding trails labeled “Most Difficult” when I had very minimal experience. I was totally blown away at how physically demanding, and down-right scary it was. I kept coming back because I was drawn to the reality that it takes more than just being physically fit to be good at it- you gotta have what our neighbors south of the border call “cojones”- and I wanted to get better. I liked being in the woods, kicking up dirt with my friends, and feeding off one another’s energy. It was a new experience; something I could sink my teeth into and pursue in my own way. A year or so later it hasn’t gotten much easier, but at least my eyes aren’t popping out of their sockets after every descent.
The variety in cycling is what makes it so special, and I’m lucky enough to have a back yard that offers just that. I can ride the road on the majestic Blue Ridge Parkway one day, then ride technical single-track in Pisgah the next, and have a completely different experience. It’s a good problem when you wake up in the morning and can’t decide where to ride.
Cane Creek is a direct reflection of this abundance of diversity in every way. We’re not just a suspension company, or a headset company, or those guys that make that funky suspension seat post that only Germans buy- we’re a cycling company that has revolutionized the sport multiple times, and I think this is largely due to the cyclists of all types that work here. Even though I have only worked here for a short time, I’ve learned that while each of our employees all have their own unique passions and preferences in their riding journeys, we all share a common commitment to rigorously test the products we develop in our own back yard, whether that be the Blue Ridge Parkway, Pisgah National Forest or any other type of terrain Western North Carolina has to offer. This gives us invaluable insight to make the best possible product for the end user, because we want to use the best possible product ourselves!
We believe your bicycle(s) should reflect your individuality. We strive to create and design components that align with whatever your cycling passions and needs are. This is what keeps it new and exciting for us here, and we hope, ultimately progresses the sport. Ride on.