|
|
Dirt Rag Articles
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Let's face it. If you're reading this magazine, chances are you're a cycling enthusiast. You probably at least know the difference between a tire and a wheel. Therefore, it's safe to assume that you purchase your goods from a reliable local bike shop or online retailer. But what about the person who just wants to buy a bike? Most likely, he or she will head to the closest strip mall and pick one up—maybe get some cat litter and a bag of popcorn while they're at it.
Mass Merchant Stores
It happens every day, in every town, and in much larger numbers than we care to think about. In fact, about 13 million bikes were sold through mass merchants in 2003. We got to wondering—just how does the average consumer go about buying these bikes? We decided to find out first hand. Armed with the company credit card, we decided to visit two nearby mass merchant retailers and document our experience.
It would be unfair if we claimed to be unbiased in our views of the mass merchant business model where sales volume is often seen as more important than pride in a quality product. Nearly every cycling enthusiast has noticed poorly assembled bikes on a mass merchant's sales floor or had a child on the street ask for help with their new but barely functional bike. Most bike shop employees have a handful of stories about bikes from a mass merchant making their way into the shop with misassembled components and greaseless bearings.
If you trace the problem back to assembly at the mass merchant retailer, you can find that in many cases, bikes are assembled by a "professional"—i.e., either the same person who assembled the gas grills, or a traveling independent contractor who is paid on a per bike basis. Consequently, emphasis is placed on number of bikes assembled, not the quality of each individual build.
Our Agenda
After coming up with a simple script and making sure we had no cycling specific logos visible on our clothes, we were off to two local mass merchant retailers. We returned with two dual suspension mountain bikes for a total of less than $250. We'll call them Bike X and Bike Y.
The Buy
We start out in Mart X—one of 3,400 locations across the United States. Finding bikes here isn't hard. In the summer, there's often a display outside the store, and in the winter there's always a rack in the sports department with at least one "mountain bike." On this day, the outside display hasn't been replenished and the rack inside is nearly empty. Michael draws the short straw and poses as the customer. Two bikes catch his eye—each mountain bikes with reputable brand names. We like the hardtail because at $150, full suspension probably isn't the best choice. The parts spec even looks half decent. But the full suspension bike has such flashy paint and a 100% aluminum alloy frame that is "more rigid, lightweight and is stronger than steel (when compared to similar steel frames)," according to the bike's promotional materials.
A friendly salesman, who we'll call Alex, approaches Michael as he falls into his scripted role, pretending that he knows nothing about bicycles. Michael doesn't introduce himself, but instead spurts out his "intentions."
"I've seen some people ride mountain bikes in a park near my house. I'd like to go out on the trails to see what it's like. Which one is good for me?"
Alex takes a look at the three of us and asks how much Michael is looking to spend. Michael responds, "About $150," as that's the budget for our project. Alex looks up at the third rack and points to them.
"The Mongoose and Schwinn are better ‘cause they have better shocks than these," he explains as he points to the sub $100 bikes lined up on the bottom row. "They're better because they're a real brand—those others are just made-up names. The Mongoose has a bigger frame and it has more shifting. It just shifts quicker."
As he talks, Michael considers these benefits. "Let's see…more shifting. Bigger frame. A real brand. I like that."
"Could you pull down the Mongoose?" Michael asks.
"No problem," says Alex as he wheels over a ladder and hauls down the bicycle.
Standing next to the bike Michael asks, "Will it fit?"
"Well, this one has an adjuster where you can change your seat height," he explains, unlocking the seat post quick release. Taking the bike from Alex, Michael lowers the seat all the way, intentionally lowering the seatpost past the point that's considered safe by manufacturers who sell full suspension bikes with a shock/seat tube interference. When the post hits the shock, Alex doesn't say anything. While he does a good job of explaining the shifting and braking, he never explains how a seatpost or wheel quick release is supposed to work. And while this information is offered in the owner's manual, a customer is more likely to receive a hands-on demonstration at an independent bicycle dealer.
Michael hops on the bike and pedals down an aisle. After dismounting, Michael asks, "Do these things go on sale? I mean, can I get it for less?"
Alex takes a look around the store and whispers, "Well, yeah. I'll give you my employee card and you can get 10% off. These things don't really go on sale until late summer." While we're impressed by his generosity, he still never told Michael to wear a helmet, and he never explained routine maintenance or any safety procedures—things you frequently find at a bicycle-specific retail location. Most of all, he didn't display the expertise necessary to size the bike correctly for Michael's height—since there's only one size to choose from.
A couple weeks later, we head to Mart Y. The layout isn't much different, save for the splashing of red paint instead of Mart X's blue. The sports department is in nearly the same place and the selection is worse. Fearing that we may not find what we're looking for, we find a lone full suspension bike with a $99.95 sticker price. We watch two employees walk past, ignoring our presence.
A total of six employees walk past in our fifteen-minute shopping period and not a single one offers help. Instead of requesting help, we decide to embrace the experience and head to the check out line.
At the sales counter, the cashier talks to us about the bike. He tells us that we can buy a $7 warranty that will guarantee money back if the bike fails during the next year. No questions asked, just a check in the mail for our troubles. The deal sounds too good to refuse, as the three of us knowingly smile (and gasp!) at the thought of really riding the bike on trails.
After the purchase, our cashier tells us that the brand we chose is better than the other brands. He points to the spot on the frame, just above the front derailleur, where the frame will "bend, but most likely not break." He tells us, "Well, the seat will go first, then you'll see where the frame will bend. But just tell them where it's broken and they'll send you a check." Wow. Now there's something you don't hear often.
Meanwhile, Back at the Shop
Initial inspection of Bike X reveals a serious assembly oversight. The stem bolts were never tightened, so one swift turn of the bars and we'd be grated cheese on the driveway—while this problem was not observed in the store, under real world conditions such as a steep driveway or on the trail itself, it would spell disaster. A note in the owner's manual advises against returning the product to the store and lists a phone number for the manufacturer. Two messages left on the 800 line go unreturned. Meanwhile, the less expensive Bike Y seems to be in rideable condition, but we wouldn't dare swing a leg over one of these bikes until we could personally guarantee their safety.
Our next step was to disassemble and reassemble each bike according to a mechanic's checklist, provided by T.J. Platt of Dirty Harry's Bike Shop in Verona, PA. The checklist is extensive and thorough, including inspection of every component, greasing each metal-to-metal interface and tightening each bolt to a specific torque setting.
The Rebuild
We followed T.J.'s list and discovered the following oversights on Bike X: loose stem bolt; backwards-mounted front tire; there is no grease on the seatpost; there's oil instead of grease in the hubs and bottom bracket, which would lead to short term bearing failure; wheels are out of true (not straight) and out of round; rear axle is already bent; fork is out of alignment; rear derailleur is not straight; and rear cable is frayed.
We perform the same procedure on Bike Y and find the following: seatpost quick release does not tighten enough to keep the post stable; front and rear hub bearings are over tightened—the rear so tight it's impossible to turn the axle by hand; the brakes rub when we spin the wheels.
Surprisingly, Bike Y cost less but had fewer problems. We reassembled each bike following the checklist—with grease in all the right spots and each bolt tightened to proper torque specifications, we felt relatively safe riding these bikes through the woods on our home trails.
Size Matters
The first, most obvious problem is that Brad cannot safely ride either of these bikes. At 6'2", he makes both Bike X and Bike Y look like clown bikes. And therein lies the problem with mass merchant bikes—one size fits all. If you're lucky you might find a women and men's frame, but for the most part there is no sizing of a bike. A 5'0" woman could conceivably buy and ride the same bike as a 6'5" man—as Alex said, "Just change your seat height."
Cyclists of any level of experience will tell you that fitting a bike to your body is the most important thing. Yet with these bikes, if your body size and type don't fall within a certain range, you're guaranteed a miserable ride. No wonder more people don't ride bikes more often.
For Chris and Michael, bike fit is less of a problem. Bike Y is on the small side, but Bike X seems to fit them well enough.
Bike X's claim of a lightweight aluminum frame is a bit overstated at a total weight of 38lbs. The bikes are ridiculously heavy for what they are. Bike Y comes in at 41lbs.
Two Bikes, Three Testers
Our plan was to send Chris, Michael and Brad out for rides on each bike on easily accessible trails in an Allegheny County Park—trails we see as conceivable for a beginner rider.
After two loops through the park—roughly three miles per loop—we're laughing at the cosmetic suspension that bounces down the trail and tops out with a loud "clunk!" after each bump. Chris reaches down to adjust the rear suspension only to realize the preload threads on the shock don't do anything; they exist for appearance only. The brakes perform much better than expected, but with painted steel rims it's doubtful that Bike Y's good braking will endure over time. The most abhorrent aspect of riding is the shifting. Granted, we're all accustomed to drivetrains that cost more than both bikes put together, but shifting isn't consistent even when pedaling up a paved hill. On the trail, we all minimize shifts in hopes of not hurting ourselves. Chris and Brad both notice the short crankarms (170mm rather than the typical 175mm).
On lap 2, Michael rides Bike X over a logpile, after which the derailleur recoils and pulls the chain slack, shooting pulleys trailside and bending the soft steel cage. Sure, drivetrain problems occur on bikes of all quality, but this routine trail feature is similar to dropping off a curb, and in our eyes is not something that should have happened. Once singlespeed conversion has taken place, he and Brad head back home. Brad's knees are hitting the bars and he's getting frustrated—the same reaction any tall rider would have to riding this small bike. After only an hour and a half of riding, the bikes are ready to be retired.
*******
Back at the shop, we have a hard time making sense of the situation. We're aware that we are experienced riders accustomed to high-end bikes that cost ten or twenty times the hundred-dollar price and weigh half as much. Our pedals even cost more than Bike Y. We're also aware that most people just want to ride their bikes down the street or in a park on a weekend with the family.
So are these bikes safe to ride under such conditions? You be the judge. Our loose stem bolt would send most any rider to the hospital. The "one size fits all" bike would leave a bad taste with any new rider outside a given height range. A broken derailleur would most likely give a beginner a bad perception of bikes in general, in addition to adding a $40 repair bill (27% of the bike's total cost).
It's not hard to think about what might make these bikes better—a qualified, certified assembly; a better range of sizes; less cosmetic features and more functional ones.
There are problems in the way of implementing these changes, and they're mainly due to market forces. Mountain bikes look cool, and that's what the mass merchant believes the consumer wants. The uneducated consumer wants everything for nothing, and at the mass merchant level, they won't get much. Mike McGettigan, the outspoken owner of Trophy Bikes in Philadelphia, PA says, "when we attempt to show a person a bike at a reasonable price, say between $300 and $500, we're met with ‘I can get the same thing for $139.' To which I say no you can't, it's a B.S.O., or Bike Shaped Object. A $139 bike that you don't ride is a $139 loss." So where should you turn if you don't have a lot of money to spend? As is the case with cars, buying used may be your best bet.
Buying a bicycle shouldn't be hard or painful. But the process of buying and maintaining is worlds away from buying lawn furniture, which is exactly how the mass merchant treats the process. A bicycle is not a toy—it is a valid form of transportation and recreation with moving parts that require attention to detail. That detail is something that an independent bicycle dealer is equipped to provide you with, or to help you find the resources you need to do it yourself.
 |
| Comment from ray on 2008-11-03 |
| So what happened when you tried to call in the warranty? |
|
|
|
|
 |
