Last year, SimWorks USA planned, produced in very limited quantities in the United States, and—thanks to your support—received great feedback for a modern klunker frame set called the High Plain Drifter. (I believe it has already reached the hands of a few discerning cyclists living in Japan.)
The genesis of this project was a dream that SimWorks USA General Manager Steven Smith had been nurturing in his mind for many years. The story behind it is written in detail in our recently published SimWorks blog post: A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man. I would be very happy if you could give it a read when you have some time.
Changing the subject, I'd like to share something very personal. From long before I started Circles, and even right now as I write this blog, I have been searching for the meaning behind creating things and talking about them. Unfortunately, I have yet to find an answer that I can proudly present to you all. However, when I read Steven's writing, I felt like I caught a glimpse of a hint. So, I hope to organize my thoughts as I put pen to paper.
To set the stage, you might have come across the question, "Why do people have to work?"—the kind of question you might pose to a junior high school student.
For us, as adults, the ultimate answer is simply "to live." But precisely because we are adults, let's take that question a step further: "Why did you choose that job, and with what mindset do you engage in it?" And to go even simpler: "Am I happy right now?"
As I've gotten a little older, I find myself wondering how deeply I grappled with such questions during my own youth. Did I find an answer for myself back then? Was there even a shred of compromise or resignation? Many thoughts cross my mind. So, I'll ask again: have I found the meaning in creating and talking about things? Perhaps, just perhaps, it is that very act of facing such cringeworthy questions without giving up that constitutes the meaning of creation and discourse.
Since the turn of the century, as information technology has advanced at high speed, it has become relatively easy to obtain vast amounts of information—whether that information is accurate or not. Buyers and sellers alike recognize the effectiveness of this and engage in daily social activities to propose and provide things more efficiently and clearly. I am not here to argue whether that is good or bad. However, the truth remains that even as technology advances and information processing becomes faster and more pervasive, creating and talking about things is something that cannot be explained quite so easily.
That is why I find the recent definition of "moderate" mass production so interesting. Whether it's handmade frames and handlebars, or in other industries like suits and shirts, or the outdoor brands we call garage manufacturers, the goal for us and many other small manufacturers is to create and speak within the scope of our own capabilities, to the people we can truly reach. This creates a more intimate experience precisely because the denominator is small—something I feel is very rewarding for creators, manufacturers, and consumers alike. These small manufacturers cannot produce in massive quantities and may never yield huge profits, but I believe we can at least "break bread" with our rich community of friends. (By the way, "company" seems to have the same etymology as "campagne," a type of bread our bakery division, PFM, specializes in.)
The world of hobbies is very narrow and tends to be self-indulgent. Even looking at the pie as a whole, it remains small, and because it is small, information tends to become biased. It's fascinating that even in such a small world, majorities and minorities still exist. At Circles, we understand this, and by creating and talking about things, we want to share the wonder of this small world we inhabit with as many fellow friends as possible. But we don't expect to be understood by everyone; if that were the case, this world would surely feel very unpleasant. This applies not just to our world, but also to hobbies with much larger populations, such as fishing.
Ultimately, my answer is that properly grasping what you love and what you ought to do is absolutely necessary to live. By learning through experience, discovering what is important for yourself and society through play and work, and repeating that process—if I can bring those things that are important to me to a point where they become "who I am," then perhaps even this trivial story I am writing might have some meaning.
This has become quite long, but it is our joy to introduce to you products like frames, handlebars, bags, and clothing made by our important friends in this small world—products that are crafted with heart, based on their own experiences, and while they may often end up a bit tough and heavy, they are incredibly intuitive to use and undeniably cool.
Please take a look at the SimWorks by DOOM High Plain Drifter Bar, which is carefully manufactured by hand, one by one, in the United States.
SimWorks by DOOM
High Plain Drifter Bar
【SPEC】
Material : CrMo Steel
Width : 800mm
Rise : 80mm
Back Sweep : 13deg.
Up Sweep : 4deg.
Center diam. : 22.2mm with 31.8mm shim
Bar diam. : 22.2mm
Material : CrMo Steel
Finish : Nickel Plated & Bead Blasted Shot Finish
Option : SimWorks meets Doom Collaboration Logo
Made by Keaton Haire of DOOM BARS in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
The High Plains Drifter bar is a new handmade handlebar developed through the teamwork of DOOM BARS and SimWorks. Designed with balance as the top priority, it should offer a neutral and comfortable handling experience for everyone. While the style of the rise and back sweep might make it look like a casual cruiser bar, it has been "tuned" to perfectly handle aggressive riding, so it would be the highest honor if you could enjoy it out on the trails.
Lastly, the task of accurately bending aluminum or chromoly tubing is very difficult. With the rapid development of technology recently, it seems that people in the "big world" bend them with ease... But in our small world, even the world-class Nitto often holds their head in their hands during our consultations, repeating the Zen riddle of what is possible and what is not. To put it simply, residents of this small world might be like old-school hip hop; we guarantee safety through manual effort and do the very best we can within our means. Keaton at DOOM BARS shares the same sentiment in making handlebars, and it is the same with our Doppo frames.
If we can align with your tastes in this small world, and you can use these things to truly enjoy yourself, then perhaps our efforts in creating and talking about things will have had some meaning. Through writing this, I was able to rightly realize that meeting the "friends" who come to our booths and shops to share such stories is precisely the reason why we create and talk about things.
Still, we are only halfway there. We will continue this pursuit for a long time to come.
Thank you very much for staying with me until the end.
