▶ The “Bike Nuts” Who Rode Out into −30 Cold—and My Encounters with Three Legends
There are three legendary figures whose names are indispensable when telling the history of mountain biking: Gary Fisher, Gary Klein, and Keith Bontrager.
When I joined the bicycle industry as a TREK marketing representative, I knew absolutely nothing about bicycles. Yet through trade shows and visits to TREK’s U.S. headquarters, I had unforgettable encounters with these remarkable people—experiences that remain precious “gems” in my life.
1. Gary Fisher: The Man I Talked With Before Knowing He Was a Legend
This happened at a trade show in Germany, shortly after I joined the company. On the terrace of a lakeside hotel where dinner was being held, I found myself deep in conversation with one of the male participants. We talked about tourist destinations in Germany and the turning points that change a person’s life.
After talking for quite some time, I suddenly realized that we had never introduced ourselves.
“By the way, my name is Tama,” I said.
He smiled, held out his hand, and replied,
“I’m Gary Fisher.”
Until that moment, I had thought the father of mountain biking was simply a friendly, easy-to-talk-to older gentleman. I was so shocked that I practically dropped to my knees in front of him.
Even today, he continues to share his riding and the achievements of his son, who is active as a professional athlete, on social media. His passion for riding is clearly still very much alive.
2. Gary Klein: The Man Who Gave Me an Answer About Turning Love and Passion into Something Real
Another unforgettable moment took place at the same trade show.
I was standing there, captivated by the almost hypnotic beauty of a Klein bicycle hanging on the wall. Eventually, I sat down on the floor and murmured almost to myself,
“How wonderful it would be if you could create something like this—something that gives shape to what you truly love and feel passionate about…”
Then an “older gentleman” sitting in the corner of the room quietly spoke up.
“That is why I design my bike. That’s what I do.”
That man was Gary Klein himself.
I had been working in the same room with him without even knowing who he was, and suddenly I found myself face-to-face with the very heart of his philosophy.
Later, after working desperately as part of the staff, jet lag and exhaustion finally got the better of me. I collapsed onto the floor, arms and legs spread out, looked up at him, and said,
“I am ragged. Oriental rag.”
It was my awkward attempt to say, “I’m completely worn out—like an old Oriental rug!”
The highly intellectual Mr. Klein responded with a strange little laugh—“Hee, hee, hee!”—and said,
“Funny! You are a gem!”
Mr. Klein has since retired, but the passion he gave form to is still loved around the world through his vintage bicycles. His words that day remain one of the true gems of my life.
3. Keith Bontrager—and His Joke About a Power-Generating Exercise Machine
One winter, when I visited TREK’s headquarters and factory in Wisconsin, I also had the opportunity to meet engineer Keith Bontrager.
Looking at an indoor pedaling machine, I made a suggestion:
“Why not attach a generator to it? Then perhaps the electricity you produce while exercising could power a television or even a microwave. Wouldn’t that make people work harder during their workouts?”
He looked completely serious and replied,
“Actually, I’m working on that right now. Maybe we’ll be able to launch it by next summer.”
“Really?” I asked, completely surprised.
He gave me just one word:
“Joke!”
Keith is known for his famous philosophy: “Strong, light, cheap—pick two.” He may have had a reputation for being serious and uncompromising, but he also had a wonderful mischievous sense of humor.
Conclusion: TREK Was a Brand with a Soul, Built by People Who Were Crazy About Bikes
When I first joined TREK, my impression of the brand was that it was solid and dependable, but somehow lacked a visible personality—a human face.
That perception was completely overturned by something I witnessed one day during a lunch break at the company’s headquarters and factory in Wisconsin.
It was winter, and the temperature was −20°C. The cold was so intense it hurt your face. Yet I watched employees finish lunch in barely five minutes and then, about twenty of them at once, head straight outside for a lunch ride.
I simply could not believe what I was seeing.
“If these are the bike nuts making the products,” I thought, “then this company can’t be bad at all.”
Later, I learned that the lunch ride was a TREK tradition dating back to the company’s earliest days. Regardless of rank or position, people would line up and ride together, connected by one thing alone: their love of bicycles. It was—and remains—a tradition practiced throughout the year.
The legends and the people on the factory floor had something in common: they were all passionate human beings who truly loved bicycles.
The time I spent with them became, for me, one of the great “gems” of my life.
