The Fate of 4,000 Bikes, and the Philosophy of Repair

We sell bicycles on a street corner in Nagoya.
Yet, I have long felt a resistance to calling our work mere "bicycle sales."

Let’s say, for instance, that Circles has delivered an average of 200 bicycles per year.
We’ve been in business for 20 years.
A simple calculation means that 4,000 bicycles have left our hands and pedaled out into this world.

4,000 bikes.
It’s quite a large number.
Perhaps enough to fill a small town.

Where are those bicycles now, and what are they doing?

Some are still running on daily commutes, weathering the rain every morning.
Some are in the corner of a garage, waiting for their next adventure.
And, undoubtedly, some have lost the chance to be ridden as their owners’ lives have changed.

When I started Circles, I made one decision for myself:

I didn’t want a relationship that ended the moment a sale was made.

That, at least, I was very clear about.

As I wrote before regarding BIKE FRIDAY, the day we deliver a bicycle is not the day it is finished.
If anything, that is when a long story begins.
I want to stay involved in that story for as long as possible.
I still clearly remember starting this business with that intention.

To care about the fate of the 4,000 bikes we’ve delivered.
To be able to extend a helping hand whenever it’s needed.
I believe that is our responsibility, and I believe it is the very reason why Circles exists.

The Choice of Steel

I’d like to take a moment to talk about why we at Circles have primarily dealt in steel.
The reason is relatively simple:
Steel as a material is the closest thing to the "endless time" we envision.

Of course, I understand that carbon and aluminum are excellent materials in modern cycling.
For those seeking speed and lightness, there are no materials more rational.

But at the same time, it is not easy to recycle them once they reach the end of their lifespan.
They are prone to being "finished" the moment they break.
Moreover, I believe they are also subject to being heavily consumed in line with the major trends of each era.

Steel is a bit different.

It’s heavy, and some might even see it as nostalgic.
But it allows people to build a long relationship with it while caring for it themselves.
It is easy to repair and allows for second chances.
That is what makes it so wonderful.

Even if a frame is bent or broken, it can sometimes be brought back by applying heat and pressure.
Even if the parts become obsolete, we can adapt them for current use with a little ingenuity.

I want to increase the number of bicycles that are used for as long as possible.
That feeling has remained unchanged since before I started Circles, back when I worked at a mass-market retailer.

I believe that is why I created Circles as a mechanism to achieve just that.

Accessible.
Long-lasting.
Repairable.

Only with those prerequisites does a bicycle stop being a mere consumable and begin to hold the character of a tool for life.

Picking Up and Rewriting

I’d like to talk about one product in particular: the "Clydesdale Cargo Fork" made by CRUST BIKES.

As I have written about before, it is a magical part that, simply by replacing the fork on an old mountain bike or hybrid, instantly transforms it into a cargo bike meant for hauling gear.

The world is full of old frames that have been deemed to have served their purpose and are left in the depths of garages.

But there are people who pick those things up.
"It can still ride, right?"
"With a little work, it could be even more interesting."
They say things like that, reshape it into their own form, and take it back out onto the road.

I consider that act to be one of very strong will.

Picking up what someone else has let go.
Working on it and rewriting it into a form that fits your own life.
That is also what it means to take responsibility for what you choose.

Custom-ordered bikes and SimWorks products alike are rooted in this sensibility of "picking up and rewriting."

Instead of just consuming a finished product defined by someone else, you adjust, repair, and continue with it to suit your own life.
As long as that will remains, culture will not come to an end so easily.
That is what I believe.

The Mechanism of Kyutai Paint

That said, all things with form will eventually break.
Metal fatigue can lead to cracks.
A hard fall can cause deep damage.

There are moments when you think, "This is probably done for."

But at Circles, there is a way forward.

We can cut away the broken frame, weld it, and restore its strength.
Then, we repaint it, traces and all, and return it to the road.
To do that, we have our welding service and Kyutai Paint.

What Kyutai Paint does is not just repaint a color.

They strip off the old coating, prepare the base, and layer on new color.
Watching that process, it feels less like they are hiding broken things and more like they are taking them on properly and reshaping them into something that can start once again.

It might sound a bit dramatic, but it feels close to the act of washing and refreshing the way we see things.

When an owner gets a frame back from Kyutai Paint, the sparkle in their eyes is sometimes even brighter than with a brand-new bike.

I think it’s because they know the time spent on something that had almost reached its end, only to return in a form that can ride again.

The Endless Cycle

Repairing.
Changing form.
Repainting.
And once again, heading out onto the road.

Our work at Circles is not just about selling bicycles.
I believe it is about sharing this endless cycle with you all as a culture.

A bike destined for the junkyard returns to the road through repair.
It regains its brilliance through Kyutai Paint and continues to be someone's treasure.
Because such things actually happen, we keep this place going.

What about the bicycle in your possession?

It might just be a little tired.
Perhaps it simply hasn't had anyone to care for it.
If that’s the case, please bring it to us anytime.

We might know a way to get you and your bicycle riding again.
And we probably also know that doing so is much more fun than you might think.

Take care, everyone, and see you next week.