

And after riding a few other bikes, I’d start missing my Mosaic, so I’d ride it and revel in all that it was, but at some point during the ride, I’d start thinking about what it wasn’t. Whatever it was, it was many somethings my Mosaic was not, and whatever those things were, I now wanted them. Maybe the superlight Specialized Aethos or the super-capable Otso Whaheela C. “I love this bike,” I thought when I purchased the frame “I don’t need anything more than this,” I told myself. And its ride quality is the stuff of dreams. I bought the Mosaic thinking it’d be my “forever” road bike-the last one I’d buy for myself-because it is gorgeous. There’s always another bike, novel idea, trendy builder, or hot brand. These bikes satisfy my needs as a rider in the terrain I ride most often, and they all have some X-factors, too. And I don’t think any of them are the best, but they are good bikes for me in more ways than they’re not right. And I do love those bikes more than many, perhaps most, but I don’t think they’re perfect. My current collection includes an OPEN U.P., a Mosaic RS-1, an Evil Following, and a Spot Mayhem 130. I’ve ridden a handful of bikes that I’ve loved-even though I struggle to understand why completely-and a few of them I’ve made my own. I believe in pursuing perfection even if experience tells me perfection is unattainable. Brands should construct every bike to be its best. I believe in the idea of best bikes and perfect bikes.

I’m always prepared to be surprised, and I believe that any bike can be magical, for explicable and inexplicable reasons. This doesn’t mean I’ve stopped trying to find the best bike in this moment, or that I no longer seek to learn about bikes and why one might feel better than another. Or rather, I understand that it can exist, but only briefly. And now, thirty-odd years into this journey, I’ve all but let go of the idea that the best bike can exist. The crazy thing is, as I’ve ridden more and more bikes, the idea that there could be a perfect or best bike in perpetuity seems less and less likely.

And there came a moment on every one of those bikes when I thought to myself, “Do I love this bike? Is it perfect? Is it right for me? Is this the best bike I’ve ever ridden? If I could ride only one bike for the foreseeable future, would it be this bike?” In those three decades’ time, I’ve ridden many bikes, perhaps in the thousands. It’s been my job for more than 30 years: from bike shop salesperson in high school to mechanic in college to an internship with Mountain Bike magazine to Bicycling test editor after college and ever since.

I spend much of my life riding bikes, thinking about bikes, talking to others about bikes, and writing about bikes. It’s like asking an auto mechanic, “What car do you own?” The last one is asked because, people tell me, I ride so many bikes that the one I choose for my own must be pretty great. Related questions like “What is your favorite bike?” and “What bike do you own?” get asked often, too. Throughout my career as a test editor, “What is the best bike?” is the question I’ve probably been asked more than any other.
