“Moshi moshi! This is a call from your new life.”
When Shige-san said that and told me I’d been accepted for an internship at Circles, time stopped. Emotions came flooding out, and my heartbeat pounded so loudly it was deafening. Tears spilled over, and each drop transformed the dull brown of the floor into countless colors, like a prism of light.
My heart was full of joy, yet a small voice whispered from deep within:
“But will this really make you happy?”
—Perhaps, or rather, I am certain it will.
“Moshi Moshi ! C’est ta nouvelle vie qui t’appelle”.
C’était à peu de choses près les mots de Shige-san quand il m’a dit que ma candidature pour un stage chez Circles avait été retenue. A ce moment là le temps s’arrête, les émotions défilent, et le bruit de mon cœur se fait assourdissant. Je pleure, et mes larmes telle un prisme de lumière transforment le brun monotone du parquet en une explosion de couleurs. Je suis fou de joie, mais au fond de moi une question me titille toujours: “Est-ce que ça va vraiment te rendre heureux ?”. Et bien je crois ne pas me tromper en disant que oui.
“Wait a second, who even are you?”
Me? I’m Louis. I’m 25, and I’m a man obsessed with bicycles.
No, perhaps ‘obsessed’ doesn’t quite cover it; bicycles are my life itself.
Listening to my story, you might think I was born on a bike, and that’s not entirely untrue.
At age three, I knocked out my first teeth on a tricycle. At six, I joined my first MTB club ride on a Lapierre. By eight, I was sent to the hospital with a nosebleed after a crash on a downhill run.
Of course, love can be fleeting, but the bicycle has remained a constant in my life.
It has been an anchor to hold onto, and a kite to escape reality with.
So, in 2021, I made a decision: I would dedicate my life to cycling.
“Attends, c’est qui ce mec en fait ?”. Moi ? Moi c’est Louis, j’ai 25 ans et je suis fou amoureux des vélos. Genre vraiment, les vélos c’est ma vie. A m’entendre parler, on dirait presque que je suis né sur un biclou, et c’est pas loin de la vérité. Du haut de mes trois ans, je me cassais mes premières dents à tricycles, à 6 ans je faisais ma première sortie en club sur mon VTT Lapierre, et à 8 ans je finissais à l’hôpital le nez en sang après une chute en descente. Bien sûr l’amour ça va et ça vient, mais le vélo à su rester une constante dans ma vie, une ancre à laquelle s’accrocher, un cerf-volant pour fuir la réalité. Alors en 2021 j’ai décidé d’y consacrer ma vie.
At that time, I had just finished a three-year apprenticeship in Germany, where I learned to manufacture surgical instruments, but my heart was lost.
I had left home at 18, believing that independence would make me happy, yet I found myself pacing around my 20-square-meter apartment like a caged animal, locked away within my own thoughts.
It was then that I would ride my 90s Look road bike, which I believe is what saved me.
Is cycling just a sport?
—The answer is no. It is an "instrument for happiness."
A ce moment là je sors de trois ans d’apprentissage en Allemagne où j’ai appris à fabriquer des instruments chirurgicaux et je suis perdu. J’ai quitté le cocon familial à 18 ans, croyant que l’indépendance allait me rendre heureux, et je me retrouve à tourner en rond dans mon appartement de 20 m2 comme un chien en cage, enfermé dans ses pensées. A cette époque je roulais quelques fois sur mon vélo route Look des années 90, et je crois bien que c’est ce qui m’a sauvé.
Le cyclisme est-il seulement un sport ? La réponse est non, c’est un outil du bonheur.
In 2020, I bought my first gravel bike, a Scott Speedster 30, and discovered the world of bikepacking.
Between spring rides, I would watch films of ultra-cyclists traversing the globe, mesmerized by how much suffering the human body could endure.
En 2020 j’achète mon premier gravel, un Scott Speedster 30 et je découvre l’univers passionnant du Bikepacking. Entre mes sorties printanières je regarde des films d’ultra cyclistes qui parcourent le monde, et je suis fasciné de voir à quel point le corps peut endurer la souffrance.
Above all, the person who left the biggest impression on me was a woman named Lael Wilcox.
She was an incredibly wonderful woman with a very gentle smile.
In her documentary, "I Just Want to Ride," she looked truly happy and vibrant. I thought to myself, "I want to live, too."
And so, I entered my first ultra-race: the French Divide.
L’athlète qui m’a le plus impactée c’est Lael Wilcox, une femme incroyable au sourir réconfortant. Dans son documentaire “I just want to ride” elle avait l’air si heureuse et si vivante ! Je me suis dit “Moi aussi je veux vivre !”, et je me suis inscrit à ma première course d’ultra, la French Divide.
At the time, I had just started working as a bicycle mechanic for Tout-Terrain in Freiburg im Breisgau, Germany, and I had only 10 months to prepare.
So, I tried to do in a few months what most people take years to accomplish. I trained intensely and spent all my savings on the necessary gear.
I told myself, "Happiness will return to me tenfold."
But because of overtraining, I got injured during the race and had to withdraw.
I fell apart.
Had the bicycle abandoned me?
Like an ascetic monk who gets back up no matter how many times he falls, I had to crawl back up from the bottom of the slope.
My knees were a mess, and it was excruciatingly painful not just to pedal, but even to walk.
—Yes, sometimes it is important to think before you charge ahead.
Je venais de commencer ma carrière de mécanicien cycles chez Tout-Terrain à Freiburg im Breisgau et j’avais à peine 10 mois pour me préparer. Alors, ce que la plupart font en quelques années j’ai essayé de le faire en quelques mois, j’ai enchaîné les entraînements et j’ai dépensé tout mon argent pour acheter le matériel nécessaire. Je me disais “Le bonheur me le rendra au centuple”. Bien évidemment faute de surentraînement je me blesse pendant la course, et je suis contraint d’abandonner. Je m’effondre. Le vélo m’a-t-il abandonné ? Comme Sisyphe dans les légendes grecques, je dégringole la pente, et une fois de plus il me faut pousser mon rocher jusqu’au sommet de la colline du bonheur. Avec mes genoux en compote je suis dans l’incapacité de pédaler, même marcher me fait extrêmement mal. Comme quoi parfois il faut réfléchir avant de foncer tête baissée.
After a year of confusion and heartbreak, I slowly got back on my feet and took a broader look at my life.
It was time to reclaim myself.
And so, to fulfill a childhood dream, I flew to Japan in October 2023.
I set off on a journey to traverse the roads of Japan from Tokyo to Hiroshima with my partner, Hector.
Après un an de flou et une rupture amoureuse, je me relève doucement et vois la vie en grand. Il est temps de se reprendre en main. Je décide de réaliser mon rêve d’adolescent et m’envole pour le Japon en octobre 2023. Avec moi, mon fidèle destrier Hector sur lequel je sillonnerai les routes nippones de Tokyo à Hiroshima.
This journey became a true revelation for me.
I fell in love with the country, the people, and the culture—all of it. For the first time in a long while, I felt, "This is where I belong."
But after two months of adventure, it was time to return to Europe and fall back into a monotonous routine.
At 10,000 meters in the air, I was thinking.
My brain was racing as fast as the airplane engines.
"What now?"
Everyone struggles with reality after a dream ends. Like a morning you don't want to wake up to.
But among the clouds, I felt it. A powerful urge for a new adventure.
After all, life is truly worth living.
Ce voyage a été une vraie révélation pour moi, je suis tombé amoureux du pays, de ses habitants et de sa culture. Pour la première fois depuis longtemps je me sens comme à la maison, et ça fait du bien. Mais après deux mois d’aventures folles il est temps de rentrer en Europe et de reprendre mon quotidien monotones. A 10 000 m d’altitude, je cogite, et mon cerveau turbine autant que le moteur de l’avion. “ Et maintenant tu fais quoi ?”. Bien souvent on n’est pas préparé à l’après-rêve, le réveil est dur et on a envie de se rendormir. Alors là haut, perdu dans les nuages je sens en moi une envie grandissante d’aventures folles. Je me dis que finalement, la vie vaut vraiment le coup d’être vécue.
April 27, 2025. I am in the village of Eteimbes, near my hometown in Alsace. All the people who matter most to me—my family and friends—have gathered.
And I am about to set off on a two-year cycling journey.
…At least, that is what I thought at the time.
Are you confused? Don't worry, I was too.
For over a year, I had been building what was supposed to be the "greatest adventure of my life."
At night, I would scour countless roads on Google Maps,
carefully selecting only the most challenging and interesting routes.
I envisioned the ideal bike to traverse the globe,
and little by little, I gathered all the equipment needed to live like a nomad.
Like a mad scientist,
I tried to control every element of a complex equation.
The answer to that equation was "emancipation."
I wanted to become a new person.
So, I named the journey "NewMen."
On my new companion Koha—a Tumbleweed Prospector—I intended to head toward Japan from France, through the Maghreb, China, and Southeast Asia.
But I did none of that.
Nous sommes le 27 avril 2025 à Eteimbes près de ma terre natale l’Alsace. Tous mes proches sont réunis et je m’apprête à partir pour deux ans de voyage à vélo….du moins c’est ce que je pensais. Vous êtes confus ? Moi aussi je vous rassure. Pendant plus d’un an j’ai conçu ce qui devait être l’aventure d’une vie. J’ai passé mes soirées à explorer pléthore de routes sur Google Maps et à soigneusement choisir celles qui composeraient un itinéraire challengeant. J’ai imaginé le vélo qui me permettrai de parcourir la terre, et rassemblé tout l’équipement nécessaire pour vivre comme un nomade. Tel un savant fou j’ai essayé de contrôler tous les paramètres d’une équation complexe dont la finalité était l’émancipation. Je cherchais à devenir un homme nouveau, alors ce voyage je l’avais appelé “NewMen”. Sur mon nouveau compagnon Koha, un Tumbleweed prospector, je devais rallier le Japon depuis la France en passant par le Maghreb, la Chine et l’Asie du Sud-Est. Je n’ai rien fait de tout ça.
Sometimes, by not allowing for the unexpected,
we lose a part of what makes us human.
Don't you agree?
There is nothing more boring than responding robotically
that "everything went according to plan" after a trip.
Isn't it the unexpected events that make life beautiful?
Overcoming them certainly isn't easy.
But they are trials that always lead us toward wisdom.
So why did I end up stopping that journey?
Did I give up on my own growth?
Certainly not.
Growth is something you can achieve in daily life,
regardless of the situation, if you truly desire it.
I realized that during the one-month journey I had thought was a "failure."
Because the experiences I was trying to gain through the trip were things I had already experienced throughout the year 2024.
For that year, every weekend was either spent cycling or hiking. And I shared unforgettable times with my friends.
Those moments were when I discovered myself. I realized with conviction that I really wanted to share the joy of cycling with more people.
I wouldn't have learned that on a solitary journey.
Parfois ne pas laisser sa place au hasard nous fait perdre notre part d’humanité. Vous n’êtes pas d’accord ? Quoi de plus ennuyeux que de répondre machinalement “Tout s’est passé comme prévu.” quand on vous demande comment était votre voyage ! N’est-ce pas les imprévus de la vie qui la rendent si belle ? Ils sont parfois difficiles à surmonter je l’admet, mais ce toujours au service de la sagesse.
Alors pourquoi j’ai abandonné ce voyage au final ? Ais-je renoncé à ma croissance personnelle ? Certainement pas. Grandir c’est quelque chose qui se fait au quotidien, et en n’importe quelle circonstance si on le veut. Ca je l’ai compris pendant mon mois de voyage “raté”. Car finalement, l’expérience que je cherchais à vivre en voyageant, je l’avais déjà vécue tout au long de l’année 2024. Pendant un an il n’y a pas eu un week-end ou je n’étais pas sur mon vélo ou en randonnée, à partager des moments inoubliables avec mes amis. C’est à ces moments là que je me suis découvert, que j’ai vraiment compris à quel point j’avais envie d’œuvrer pour faire découvrir les joies du cyclisme à la majorité. Voyager en solitaire ne me l’aurait jamais appris.
So, why continue a journey that had lost its meaning?
To be liked by others?
Because I didn't want to be seen as a fool whose will is unsteady?
None of that matters.
If I can be honest with myself, that is enough.
And so, I was left without a job, a home, or a clear purpose. Back to square one.
Much like the process of finding one’s "ikigai," I listed the things I love, chose what I wanted to nurture, and confirmed whether it could be of use to others.
For me, it’s quite simple: the thing I love most in the world is the bicycle.
My first thought was to become a frame builder to work on custom orders.
I contacted about ten companies that seemed like they could teach me this passionate profession, but nothing came of it.
So, before continuing to search aimlessly, I decided to visit a local frame builder (Aloueta Cycles).
We talked for several hours, and I realized that my plan wasn't feasible at all. Indeed, making a living solely from frame building in France is a major challenge. "So, what should I do?".
On the way back from the visit, I reflected on that conversation and thought:
"What is the point of becoming a frame builder? Wouldn't I just be adding one more competitor? They need help; I should be the one helping them!"
That was when the idea of doing an internship at Circles in Japan came to me. If I could learn how to build a global market like SimWorks does, I could help small French artisans sell their work and increase their visibility.
Furthermore, I could kill two birds with one stone: I would learn how to grow a business while staying in Japan, a country that values culture and etiquette. In a way, it was like the NewMen project coming back to life.
So, what is the point of continuing a journey that no longer makes sense? To please others? To avoid looking like a fool who doesn't know what he wants? None of that matters when you are honest with yourself.
And so here I am, without a job, a home, or a precise goal. *bing* Back to square one. In an Ikigai-like manner, I make a list of the things I love, I choose the one I want to develop, and I verify that it is useful to others. For me, it's very simple: the thing I love most in the world is cycling. My first idea was therefore to get into custom-made work by becoming a frame artisan. I contacted a dozen companies that could teach me this exciting trade, but nothing came of it. So, before stupidly continuing my search, I decided to visit some frame artisans near me (Aloueta Cycles). We talked for several hours, and I realized that my project was not viable at all; in fact, making a living from frame building in France is quite a challenge. “But then what do I do?”. Returning from my visit, I took a step back from our discussion and told myself, “What is the point of becoming a frame artisan? I would just be another competitor. These people need help; I would be better off helping them!”. And that is where the idea of doing an internship at Circles in Japan came to me. If I learn how to develop a global market in the image of SimWorks, I could help small French artisans gain visibility by selling their creations in partnership with my brand or even SimWorks. Plus, I would kill two birds with one stone: I would learn to develop a professional activity and, at the same time, I would be in Japan, this country that I cherish so much for its culture and its kind and respectful inhabitants. It is a bit like the NewMen 2.0 project.
You know the rest. Everything moved very fast, and in just three months, I arrived here in Nagoya and was warmly welcomed by the entire team.
Since then, I’ve been working full-time in the Circles mechanic space, and I may soon have some office work as well.
I've had wonderful encounters again, and I can't wait to meet even more inspiring people. In the meantime, if you happen to stop by the shop, please say hello. I only have basic Japanese, but I will try to speak with you as much as I can.
Thank you for reading.
This was Louis.
You know the rest. Everything happened very quickly, and in barely three months I found myself here in Nagoya, where I was warmly welcomed by the whole team. Since then, I have been working at full speed in the workshop, and soon in the offices as well. Once again, I have had incredible encounters, and I look forward to meeting more inspiring people. In the meantime, don't hesitate to say hello to me if you pass by the store; I will try to say hello as best I can with my basic Japanese.
Thank you for taking the time to read me.
This was Louis.
