On Biking & Branding

The cycling sub-cul­ture offers an inter­est­ing envi­ron­ment for observ­ing the power of brand­ing in action. Over the years I’ve learned that the “boys who bike” are very sta­tus con­scious, and proudly dis­play team affil­i­a­tions and other brand badges all over their bod­ies, their bikes and their gear. I’ve also learned that if you ride the “wrong” bike, you’re invis­i­ble to your fel­low cyclists.

Here in the Pacific North­west bik­ing is a year-round phe­nom­e­non. Peo­ple are pas­sion­ate about it. Every­day you see folks com­mut­ing to work by bike, rain or shine. There are numer­ous active cycling clubs for rac­ers, cruis­ers, seniors, tan­dem bike rid­ers, and so on. Munic­i­pal­i­ties invest in bike lanes and the county in bike trails.

Mer­cer Island, a cou­ple of miles across Lake Wash­ing­ton from Seat­tle, is a favorite place for bik­ers to work out or social­ize while enjoy­ing lake and moun­tain views. The loop around the island is just over 14 miles and fea­tures sev­eral heart-pound­ing hill climbs. You can get quite a work­out with one or two loops around the island. There­fore it’s loaded with bik­ers year round, when­ever con­di­tions per­mit cycling. As a Mer­cer Island res­i­dent and spo­radic cyclist, I’ve had lots of oppor­tu­ni­ties for brand spot­ting and observ­ing the behav­iors of the bik­ing tribes.

Dur­ing the warmer sea­sons you see gag­gles of guys on bikes train­ing for upcom­ing races, like the annual bik­ing rit­ual, the STP (Seat­tle to Port­land) race. This reaches a frenzy before and dur­ing the Tour de France race. These cyclists all sport club uni­forms or the branded apparel of the pro teams that com­pete in the Tour de France and other famous inter­na­tional races. I find it humor­ous to see week­end road war­riors sport­ing the uni­forms of pro rid­ers. Who do they think they’re kid­ding?

About that Branding…

Over the years I’ve biked on Mer­cer Island, I’ve learned that a bike’s brand sta­tus is more impor­tant than the effort you invest when it comes to your “vis­i­bil­ity” among the bik­ing crowd.  It’s a curi­ous thing.

Co-motion

When my hus­band and I cruise around the island on our “Mango Tango,” a yel­low-orange Co-motion tan­dem bike with nice com­po­nents, we get lots of head bobs and greet­ings from fel­low bik­ers. Co-motion is a niche brand, a maker of semi-cus­tom and cus­tom bikes in Eugene, Ore­gon, rec­og­nized and respected among North­west bik­ers, even if not a mass-mar­ket brand. So when we ride our Co-motion tan­dem, we get noticed and acknowl­edged as mem­bers of the bik­ing tribe.

Here’s our Co-motion “Mango Tango,” with Mer­cer Island off in the back­ground. Note the rel­a­tive lack of brand­ing on my husband’s bik­ing gear – a sign that we’re def­i­nitely out­liers when it comes to bik­ing and brand­ing…

Hybrids – No Glamour, No Respect

For the past 10 years, when not on the tan­dem, I’ve rid­den a Canon­dale hybrid bike, one designed to cruise com­fort­ably on off-road trails and paved streets alike. Com­pared to per­for­mance road bikes, it offers no mechan­i­cal advan­tage (although lots of shock absorp­tion.) The tires are rel­a­tively thick, they only inflate to 80 psi, and the bike is heavy. Con­se­quently I expend twice as much energy to cir­cum­nav­i­gate Mer­cer Island on the hybrid as I do when rid­ing the tan­dem or my new Roubaix road bike.

But for seri­ous cyclists there’s no sex appeal to a hybrid – it has no brand sta­tus among the biker boys. As a result when I ride that bike, I’m invis­i­ble to other bik­ers. No head bobs, no greet­ings, no acknowl­edge­ments – even when rid­ing in non-fair-weather con­di­tions, when only the truly pas­sion­ate (or des­per­ate) cyclists are out there ped­al­ing away and rack­ing up miles.

Roubaix

Now that I’ve switched to a cur­rent gen­er­a­tion road bike, Specialized’s Roubaix Elite Comp, I’m vis­i­ble again. When I encounter other bik­ers head­ing toward me, they nod their heads (with a quick glance at the bike and its com­po­nents) and some may actu­ally grunt a hello. I smile to myself and think, if I were rid­ing the 10-year-old hybrid today, you wouldn’t even notice me – and I’d be work­ing twice as hard…

Because of its per­for­mance char­ac­ter­is­tics (and rel­a­tive shock damp­en­ing), I love my Roubaix.

But color mat­ters to the brand sta­tus crowd…

It’s a funny thing. The first Roubaix I bought fea­tured a com­pact gear set; how­ever, its color was white, which is appar­ently con­sid­ered dorky among the bik­ing com­mu­nity. So when I rode my white Roubaix, I was usu­ally invis­i­ble, brand-wise.

When I exchanged my Roubaix for one that came with the triple gear set (I had missed the “granny gear” on those Mer­cer Island hills), the new one came in car­bon color – much more pleas­ing to other bik­ers. Yes, the car­bon col­ored, Roubaix-branded road bike mer­its head bobs and greet­ings. The very same bike in white does not… Among self-styled “gear heads,” I believe the com­pact dou­ble gear set is sex­ier than the triple, but clearly color trumps dou­ble ver­sus triple…

Gear

Unlike most of bik­ers my hus­band and I do not indulge our­selves with club uni­forms or highly branded team apparel. We’re out­liers in that regard. We wear prac­ti­cal clothes suit­able to the weather and the mileage we intend – often things that do dou­ble duty for hik­ing, kayak­ing or other sports. (I’ve even worn yoga gear from time to time.)

But, oh yes, we love those Pearl Izumi padded shorts or cropped tights, just like the other bik­ers…

It’s amaz­ing, the power of brand­ing on the mind-set of the bik­ing tribe…