It was either Monday or Tuesday evening on the way back up the viciously steep hairpin corner known as The Devil’s Elbow when a horrible creaking noise first surfaced from somewhere within my crankset.
Trust me, this is not what you want to hear when the road in front of you is hitting 20 per cent uphill gradient and you’re already in the lowest gear, praying your cleats are suitably tight and gravity won’t pull you down.
The problem was unquestionably two-fold: my bike hadn’t had a proper service all year, and when you live in Ireland’s Highest Village at 280 metres above sea level it’s only natural all the hills around here are viciously steep, forcing you out of the saddle and placing extra wear and tear on any decent crankset.
The clocks springing forward and this sweet spell of weather also added to that irresistible urge to head down (and back up) The Devil's Elbow, passing over the Glencullen River which marks the border between the Dublin and Wicklow mountains, and from there on a gentle spin around the Glencree Valley, all more or less within a 5km radius of my home because there's still no going beyond that is there?
Actually the bright sunshine and extended evenings appeared to bring out a lot more cyclists this week, although most of them, even when riding in small groups, were careful to keep to themselves, worried perhaps they might be mistaken for a small group of Dublin footballers out training in disguise and if not beyond their 5km radius already then certainly beyond The Pale.
If like me you’re not entirely sure about the difference between a ball bearing and a cartridge bearing then it is best that any creaking crankset is serviced by a decent bike mechanic, better still if they’re working within a 5km radius of your home: which reminded me of the sign for Re-Cycle Bikes, down the other side of the mountains back to towards the city, just after the turn onto Ballyedmonduff Road at the local junction known as Cannons Corner, around the normally leafy shade of Taylor’s Folly.
The pandemic will pass. What won't pass is people's perception of how they were treated in the middle of it all
The first thing to say about Re-Cycle Bikes is that if you're looking to spend big money on a brand new frame or a fancy set of wheels then you've come to the wrong place. Run by the husband-and-wife team of Stacey and Willo King, they deal exclusively in second-hand bikes, most of which are lovingly restored using recycled bike parts, although for service and repair work all new parts and components are purchased directly from two Irish distribution companies.
The second thing to say about Re-Cycle Bikes is that they probably have a bike to suit everyone, around 300 on site at any given time (some displayed out front, the rest stored in two large containers out the back), including children’s bikes, mountain bikes, racing bikes, hybrid bikes, BMX bikes and for now one magnificent Schwinn tandem. Some are inevitably in better conditions than others but they’re all riding perfectly well (plus come with a three-month warranty).
Maybe the best thing to say about Re-Cycle Bikes is that it’s a business born entirely out of the pandemic, and better still not just as a necessary service but one that’s carried out in an affordable, sustainable and environmentally sensitive way at the time when the soul of the nation feels like the scene of a crime and common decency was the first to leave.
Stacey never cycled competitively, but has been into bikes since he was a teenager, originally serving as an apprentice mechanic with Rays Bike Shop in Rathgar (before owner Ray Fearon and his brother Michael started up Cycle Superstore): he then moved into the motor trade, happy he thought to buy and sell a few bikes privately over the years, until Covid-19 hit, and suddenly he was sitting at home on the pandemic unemployment payment.
That's when Willo suggested he return to his original passion, and with no grand plan only a positive mindset he set up a small bike repair service from the garage of their home just down the mountains in Kilternan. Their 17 year-old daughter making the sign that hung on the front gate. After a couple of weekends there would be a small line of people waiting at the gate, which is when they both realised the need to move into a proper premises, spurred on by a local complaint to Dún Laoghaire-Rathdown (DLR) regarding their absence of suitable planning permission.
Re-cycled
They were in the process of moving anyway, admittedly lucky to find a suitable premises during the pandemic months of last summer, and are now based at The Stoneworks, next to Buckley Fireplaces, with plenty of space and parking and for now the only service in the country dealing exclusively in re-cycled bikes, presenting customers with the option of re-cycled bike parts where available too.
“If we knew all this, back then, we’d have done it years ago,” Stacey told me. “So most definitely it exploded out of Covid. Working with people, in bikes and cars, was nothing new to me. But what I also wanted to do from the very get-go was to go back to old values. Yes, it costs money, and we need to pull a few quid back on it, but if someone comes in genuinely stuck for a bike and or a part we’ll do our best to sort them.
“I had all the tools, 32 years of experience, but you want to build some loyalty with the customer, have the bit of fun too. That’s what we’re about, a community service as much as an essential service. And the pandemic will pass. What won’t pass is people’s perception of how they were treated in the middle of it all.”
They originally invested some savings into second-hand bikes, most of the supply now coming via trade-ins, other bike shops (who don’t sell second-hand), the DLR abandoned bike scheme and local donations (which they pay forward with a personal donation to St Vincent De Paul). In December, they won the 2020 DLR New Business Entrepreneur award, after just six months in business, a reminder too perhaps that while the Government may be investing millions into cycling lanes and greenways, there will always be the need for a decent bike mechanic.
Stacey did tell me he’d need to order a new cartridge bearing to fit my Cannondale, and with that offered the use of another bike while it’s being serviced. I was about to decline until he pointed to a Colnago CT1, arguably the most beautiful of all titanium bike frames, suitably dressed up in the finest Italian components, which was incredibly decent of him considering it’s about to be tested up and down The Devil’s Elbow.
