The Kid: Clad in skinny jeans, a vintage T, a studded belt, and a flat-brim trucker hat, this youngster just landed a dream job. Any lack of experience is made up for with happy-as-a pup enthusiasm. Best Quality This minimum- wage earner knows how to scrimp for bike parts and will steer you toward the best value every time.
The True Believer: You can tell the true believers by their righteous tatoos and punk- rock attitude. Their cargo bike probably has a guitar lashed to it and a sticker that reads: One less car, bitch. Best Quality Fund- raising for nonprofits, organizing rides, and taking on all the noble projects you don’t have time to sup- port because you’re too busy riding.
The Hopeful Pro: Identified by a team-replica cyclingcap and bulging calves, this aspir- ing racer looks for any advantage to cheat the wind, defy gravity, and eke out one more watt. Best Quality Will gladly inform you why your bike, riding position, and donut consumption are holding you back, then suggest (often with- out solicitation) ways to fix it.
The Retrogrouch: These crusty shop hands lust after blue-anodized cranks, tubular tires, and 8-speed Campy cassettes. From behind a thick beard and tattered apron, they will wax poetic about the days before Di2. Best Qual- ity The only person in town will- ing to help you find parts for your 1980s Japanese steel samurai sword of a bike.
And on the opposite page they featured Maglia Rosa, the bike shop a few doors down from me in Brooklyn.
