No, Bike Shops Are Not ‘Essential’ In The Majority of The USA During A Pandemic — And The Numbers Agree

Amanda Batty
13 min readMar 30, 2020

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I’m going to start this off with a statement: I wish the US was Denmark. I wish we had unlimited bike paths and a culture shaped around human-powered transport. I wish Americans had the flexible mindset to get out of their cars and onto two wheels, and I wish that they’d vote accordingly. In my perfect world, everyone has at least one bike. In my Utopian society, we all ride some sort of two or three or even four-wheeled contraption that forces us to engage with our surroundings and each other in ways that make the human population better. I wish we were all of these things in America, but we are not there… yet.

Yesterday, Outside Magazine published an article claiming that during the COVID19 pandemic, bike shops can and should be labeled as ‘essential’ businesses, thus resulting in their being exempted from the ongoing and ever-expanding limited operations restrictions that apply to other retail outlets.

Prior to this article, I posted a now-archived blurb on my Instagram after receiving a message from a good friend that linked to a petition asking for the Governor of New Mexico to declare bike shops as essential. I declined, explaining that I couldn’t back it in good conscience, and went on to make a public statement as to why bike shops aren’t mandatory services or essential businesses in the majority of US cities.

The backlash was swift and fierce, as expected, and I’m no stranger to it — I’m assuming there will be a similar reaction to this piece. But what I’d like to explain here that I couldn’t detail in the instagram caption or in a series of tweets are 1, my reasonings, 2, my background and current employment situation and 3, the numbers that fail to reflect the need. But before I do that, I’m doing to make a disclaimer: unlike the Outside Magazine bit that based much of their logic on the use and need of New York City, this article applies to non-major metropolitan centers around the US and the ways that retail shops can incubate, foster and spread viral infections.

I’d like to explain that I currently work in a bike shop in Albuquerque, NM (for now, until I’m fired because of this) that has been voted one of the best bike shops in the southwest for the last six years — and I’m lucky to work there. I love my job. I love working back in bikes, especially being a former professional mountainbike racer. My heart and soul belongs to two wheels, and I’ve done everything in my power to facilitate that (yes, this is also to build my defense against arguers that accuse me of being a ‘car culture warrior’). My stance on more people on bikes has been made more than clear: I support it.

With that being said, I’d like to note that the bike shop I work at did over $30,000 in sales last Saturday over the course of eight hours. The following day, Sunday, in less than five hours, we did over $20,000. The next afternoon, we were definitively shut down by the state of New Mexico as a retail operation. Prior to being forced closed and the resulting petition that circulated because of it, I worked full time in sales; I saw almost every bike that came through the door. I also ring up service tickets, chat with everyone who comes in and basically, do all the things that a bike shop employee is supposed to do. On anecdotal evidence alone, I can say the following: none of those people were first responders, essential personnel or folks bringing in their sole form of transportation. Not a single person I have rung up, spoken with, sold to or helped out has been solely dependent on their bike in order to get where they needed to go.

Also of note: almost none of those customers wore PPE (personal protective equipment) like masks or gloves; few used the offered sanitizer we provided.

I’m extremely fortunate to love and live with a retired Fire Captain/EMT (amongst other things) who is willing to talk me through my bouts of frustration-driven angst, especially where this is concerned. I’m also incredibly lucky to have his 25+ years of expertise and experience on board as I examine this issue from as many sides as I’m able. When speaking with Mark, who is an avid cyclist and worked part time at a local ABQ shop during the course of his public safety career, he makes it clear that despite a lot of the projections on my Instagram post, people who are heavily depended upon take great care to be dependable, and that everyone who does choose to commute by bike has at least a basic understanding of how to operate, maintain, troubleshoot and repair it.

“While I know many first responders and health care professionals who choose to ride to work or shift as a way to decompress or get excercise, I’m not aware of (nor have met) a single person in the field who is without a vehicle or a significant other who owns a vehicle. In my experience, I’ve not come across a provider whose sole means of transportation is a bicycle.” He added that ride sharing/carpooling is also a common means of of commuting for individuals on the same shift at a given clinic, fire house, hospital or other medical facility.

Prior to my employment at the shop, I was an EMS controls and HVAC/R installer and technician — I worked new construction as well as maintenance and service in a variety of industries, a role which has been unequivocally defined as ‘essential’ due to the ongoing need for heating, cooling, energy management, refrigeration and more. My job requirements were varied, but at no point did I ever feel as though my work wasn’t needed: that was and still is part of the appeal for me. At the bike shop, I’m also realistic about my usefulness in a country that has less than a 1% rate of bike commuters nationally (League Of American Bicyclists) — my job is not at all necessary, even when tacking on my meager wrenching skills. But during my previous employment as an essential worker, not having a vehicle to get to a jobsite or pick up supplies was unconscionable and I was forced to let go one of my crew members because of that very issue: you have to be able to get to work and do your job on time, every time. The function of the ‘essential work’ depends on it, and during inclement weather or emergency, a bicycle is neither an efficient nor timely form of transportation for those considered essential.

All of this makes me wonder: when the majority of the work we’re doing at the shop is maintenance and repair on recreational bicycles for people with other forms of transportation (that they’ve used to get to the shop in the first place), why on earth are we subjecting employees, customers and a community at large to the viral spread of a pandemic with no cure and no end in sight? Even more important a question is this: why are we allowing, excusing and even encouraging that exposure right now… All for the sake of a bicycle ride?

Albuquerque, New Mexico isn’t New York City — our population that rides isn’t even recorded in a place easily found on the internet. But we do have COVID-19 and we do have community spread. In cities like Portland, OR or Madison, WI or even Boulder, CO, bike commuters maintain a shockingly high percentage of their respective populations. But in NYC, the bike commuter percentage rate is still ‘only’ 1.7%, despite that being 51733 people. Portland, Oregon’s percentage is much higher, 6.3%, with just under half (22647) the riders. Of course this data is dependent on climate, bikeshare programs, infrastructure and overall community culture, but it speaks to the fact that in these cities, bike shops may well be an ‘essential business’ simply because of use numbers and need for food delivery, medical supplies, healthcare access and more — many of the people I know in NYC don’t own cars, and when public transit shuts down, they’re isolated and cutoff from necessities. But those thousands of people also represent potential transmission points — door handles and crossing signs and hundreds of thousands of other touchpoints that could easily infect the next rider, walker or immuno-compromised person.

“The Department of Health (DOH) estimates that more than 500,000 adult New Yorkers use a bike at least once a month. According to the Department of Transportation’s (DOT) Commuter Cycling Indicator, there was a 13 percent increase in daily commuter bicycling between 2009 and 2010 alone. Our city has seen double-digit growth in bike ridership for four straight years — effectively doubling the number of regular cyclists on our streets, according to the DOT’s annual counts.” — TransAlt.org, about New York City’s expanding cycling community.

Arguably, bikes are almost a resident requirement for these cities and small towns; in PeopleForBikes’ groundbreaking measurement system, PFB tracks ‘the most actionable’ data for government officials and growth advocates. “What gets measured gets done,” said PeopleForBikes Research Director Jennifer Boldry, Ph.D., who’s spent three years developing the rating system. “I would love if this were a tool for cities to measure where they are and track their progress.” The use parameters and infrastructure evaluations are revolutionary for an industry often unable to parse let alone convey the value that bikes provide to communities, even in non-pandemic moments.

Boldry asks, “What’s the measure that is comparable city to city, and when we put the different measures together kind of gives us a balanced picture of what success looks like?” she said. “It was difficult because the data sets available and we all know and talk about, the ACS mode share data and the FARS fatality data, are such a limited view of what success looks like. The real challenge was what do we create to fill in the gaps.”

This data compilation also conveniently serves as the basis for the reasoning that in most American communities, bike shops are non-essential services during an infectious pandemic where a large majority of workers have been laid off and are not commuting. They also accurately reflect the rural and small cities’ numbers that showcase different levels of audience participation and various levels of need on an ‘essential’ scale; the needs of a low-income rider solely dependent on their bike for essential items and services are vastly different from those of a recreational cyclist with disposable cash on hand.

What happens when a customer who works in a non-essential industry brings in their recreational bike for repair or a tune-up in order to pass their time in this unprecedented period of national unemployment due to containment measures enacted by cities and states? I’d bet you a dollar that their bike hasn’t been sanitized. I’ll bet you another dollar that if they’re pulling that bike out for a spring tune up during a global pandemic and have the time, flexibility and financial capacity to bring it to a bike shop, they’re not essential workers in an essential industry.

And here’s the crux of the entire ‘essential’ argument: if an essential worker uses a bicycle as their sole form of transportation, the chances are extremely low that they’re taking it to a shop right now. Why? Because they’re working. They need that bike. And they probably have all the skills to maintain, troubleshoot and repair that bike in order to minimize downtime and enable dependability. So whether they’re a grocery store clerk, an ER doctor or an ICU nurse, the very nature of their employment demands consistency and an ability to show up — even during a pandemic. Which identifies the demographic utilizing the services of a bike shop during COVID19: nonessential recereationalists looking to spend money and/or escape boredom. Remember those $30k and $20k numbers in 15 hours at an Albuquerque bike shop? That qualifies as retail. That qualifies as non-essential business and a probability of extremely high risk to those involved, especially when comparisons are drawn between cities all across America.

To what end?

I’m a bike shop employee. I’m an avid philanthropist, volunteer, helper. I’m also trouble when I’m bored and prone to making questionable life decisions when I have nothing to do (like shaving half my head, starting a business, writing this article or ending a relationship), which means that avoiding boredom and staying engaged in one project or another is generally a positive thing for both myself and humanity at large.

I get it: the desire to be ‘doing’ something is tempting. It’s human. The need to feel essential and to feel needed and helpful is even stronger, particularly during an event none of us have ever lived through before. The psyche of the human population is in flux right now; the large majority of those in wealthy countries or in privileged positions who’ve been told to just sit still and stay home may be even worse off, because never before have we not had the option of keeping ourselves occupied — we live in a culture of ‘busy’! That’s our national pasttime. Just look at the desperation across social media and the number of live videos on Instagram as proof of the palpable stress around monotony.

But boredom and wanting to ‘feel’ essential doesn’t justify the continued exposure and potential damage caused in thousands of communities across America via preventable viral infection. Neither does the concern of business owners, unfortunately; the fear of going bankrupt cannot supersede keeping people safe and containing a deadly, uncurable virus. It simply cannot. And while I could expound on the variety of ways that shop owners might be preying upon employees’ financial need and consumers’ economic panic, I won’t. I’ll simply say that keeping a business afloat during this time is going to be difficult and things are scary, but that there are ways bike shops can help their communities, serve customers, bring in revenue and keep employees on payroll, all at the same time, even during closure.

How?

The same way I recommended to the owner of our shop weeks ago when it became clear that this ‘COVID thing’ was going to hit us: a solution that my very smart boyfriend Mark and I came up with.

That solution is as follows: Close down, put products online and sell them for curbside-pickup and shipping, and keep employees on staff (who’ve already been exposed to each other) to run inventory, fulfill orders, organize stock, run PR, upgrade websites, plan future campaigns and community intiatives, clean and sanitize the store and much, much more. The thing about this entire pandemic is that it will end. And a long-game perspective is required, because the end point largely depends on us. Yes, you and me and Mark and your friends and family and the other 7+ Billion people on this planet. We can prepare for reopening while keeping ourselves strong and healthy and sane and keeping businesses afloat and employees taken care of. We have the infrastructure for that. It’s going to require some extra work and a dash of ingenuity, but also a bit of trust and belief in ourselves. I know I don’t like riding the trainer five days in a row and I certainly hate being cooped up in my house right now, but we do have options — we have a lot of options. We can either scrabble and scrape in greed and fear of scarcity or we can readjust, adapt and change for a better world (and bike industry) going forward. We can look out for the safety and health of our customers and communities and we can still give them damn good service with curbside pickup and YouTube videos and home trainer rentals and Zoom consults and social media connection. We can create organized, shoppable inventory that enhances efficiency and efficacy during this period, as well as presenting clean, sanitizied shops that customers will appreciate. There’s not a shop in America that can’t use a good, down-to-the-boards clean, and there’s not a single wrench in the US worth the grease on their hands that hasn’t said “just shut the fucking doors and let me work”. There are a million things to do in shops around the country that get put aside on a daily basis in favor of things “more profitable” or more “customer forward”. We have the time now… we have nothing BUT time! We can streamline our operations, improve morale, sustain employee buy-in (or even create it!) and in the long run, serve customers far better than if we continue to work with skeleton crews that will eventually succumb to the dangers of exposure. With the record numbers that bike shops are currently doing thanks to the influx of customers looking for an outlet, that risk of being exposed to the coronavirus isn’t an ‘if’ anymore — it’s a when. In the numbers game, even the strongest, beer-fed mechanic cannot fend off a virus forever, particularly if they’ve been repeatedly exposed. That’s a simple mathematical equation.

We can look at this epidemic as either a tragedy or an opportunity; I prefer opportunity, because that’s how we move forward. Denying the current circumstances or pretending that bike shops are assembling ventilators (another great idea!) is fruitless, egotistical and pointless — in no way does that serve, protect or empower anyone involved. We all have a transformative opportunity to be honest and frank about this situation and the power that we continue to have as owners, employees and customers. We’ve been given a chance to prove our resilience, our intelligence and our level of creativity within confines that could crush us… What will we do? Will we cower? Will we give in to the same powers we bitch and moan about on a daily basis? Will we leave our employees and our customers to struggle alone and fight for themselves? Or will we laugh into the storm and come up with another way to be useful? Will we choose to adapt and thrive?

We could be like we’ve always been, grabbing at the reins we’ve already dropped, failing ourselves and endangering people and praying the sky won’t fall the entire time, but I hate to break it to you: the sky has fallen. It’s down. Learn to adapt and look out for the people who need us. Be an asset, not a liability, and jump into change and hope with forward momentum and an eye on progress.

That’s the only way to survive any of this — not by declaring bike shops ‘essential’.

a responsible form of bike entertainment.

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Amanda Batty

Professional athlete, firestarter, curious mind and critical-thinker. Former pastry chef, current industry troublemaker and forever interested in good business.