Grease Monkeys. Shop Rats. Wrenches.

Call them what you will, your local bike mechanic is your last means of defense against the bike you know and love revolting and spitting you out on your favourite trail. Most shops, just due to the inherent economics of the bike industry, can't afford to pay their staff much over minimum wage.

With the advent of the modern mountain bike, with its hydraulic disc brakes, advanced suspension systems and machining tolerances usually reserved for aerospace applications, it's a crime that a bike mechanic's skills are worth about as much as the guys who flip burgers at the local Murder King.

Thankfully, most shops offer employees deals on bikes and gear just to help keep them in the game. Otherwise, there is very little holding most bike mechanics back from taking a 15-inch Wescott to that rusty old CCM Targa and quitting so they can mindlessly dole popcorn to movie goers from behind the counter at the local Mega-plex.


Photographer = Warwick Patterson

Bike mechanics, as a rule, take a great deal of pride in their work. Whether it's wheel building, overhauling and modifying the latest in suspension forks, or even a simple tune up, every mechanic out there will recognize a bike they have worked on when it rides by. They likely won't recognize the face of the person riding it, but each bike becomes a personal project; a place to leave their mechanical signature.

As though the low pay and lack of riding time weren't enough, every mechanic has to deal with the day to day happenings of shop clients. Bike people are generally cool people. Sometimes though, they're not. While I have yet to meet the perfect bike mechanic, some shop customers make it very difficult to finish the day with your self-esteem intact. (I refer you again the minimum wage issue.)

Throwing out phrases like "you people" and "scheisters," some otherwise very cool people completely lose it, thinking the entire bike shop network is out to get them. Generally, mechanics have worked long enough to realize that Vise Grip marks on any given nut or bolt on a bike is a clear indicator that it was worked on somewhere other than a shop."I don't know. It just kind of happened. I was Just Riding Along." Just a little note for anyone ever thinking of giving the JRA story. An $800 suspension fork has about the same odds of snapping while you're out Just Riding Along as the earth has turning inside out the next time you sneeze. It's simply impossible for something to spontaneously snap while on a park path. Either that part was brutally abused before the incident and fatigue got the better of it, or the customer is not telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. More often than not, it's option B, and mechanics see right through it.

The other favourite of mechanics around the world is "Do you mind if my son comes back while you do that so he can do it himself next time? "Not only do mechanics love an audience about as much as a slipped ratchet on a drive-side crank arm, but simply reducing years of knowledge and experience to a 2 minute visual demonstration on how to bleed Hayes Brakes is about as complimentary as a private school tunic.

Luckily, most mechanics are able to shrug off this barrage of personal deprecation, and do so with a smile with the knowledge that they are getting someone back out on their bike. Despite the seemingly endless stream of frustrating last minute "It's 8:50pm on Friday and I need this overhauled for my race tomorrow!"s, negativity always seems to be quelled by the thought of pro deals and the odd customer who actually gets it.

These customers usually have a bike that works immaculately, but will bring it in at 8:45 am, just before the doors open, and will take the time to talk to you while presenting you with a dozen donuts in hopes of you having the time to check out a clicking sound they've encountered in their drivetrain.

These are the people shop mechanics will bend over backwards for. Not because of the donuts, but because they value the opinions and expertise needed to work such a thankless but demanding job, and they're willing to pay for it. Ironically, these are also the people that usually get the job done for a handshake and an unspoken promise to return in the winter for an overhaul. There's a lesson for all of us in there somewhere.

Richard Belson