When T.J. Clevenger saw a stranger enter his shop with his childhood 1982 Schwinn World Sport on his first day of ownership, he gave the man a choice.
“I don’t know if you stole it. I don’t care if you stole it. I’m not even going to ask the question,” he said. “But I will give you any used bike out front for the price I paid for it.”
The alternative he offered to his very first customer was to call the Moscow Police Department, as Clevenger reported the bike stolen six years ago after he discovered it was taken from his porch.
The stranger left without a bike that day.
Clevenger originally bought the Schwinn with help from his parents, who split the $450 price. Clevenger’s half was money saved from mowing lawns. He said he rode it through middle and high schools, even bringing it with him on his naval deployment in the Persian Gulf War.
After leaving the Navy in 1995, Clevenger became a truck driver before moving to Lewiston to study nursing. He said he then moved to Moscow one year later because he preferred that city’s culture.
He used the Navy’s G.I. Bill to pay for school at the University of Idaho. There, he began working at Paradise Creek Bicycles largely for grocery money.
Six years after graduating, the then-owner offered to sell the shop to Clevenger while he was doing soil moisture monitoring in Pullman. About a year later, in August 2008, he became owner and operator of the shop, with his brother and father as business partners. He’s now been in Moscow for 22 years.
Clevenger’s story is unique, but he isn’t alone. Other cyclists throughout the Palouse have plenty of stories to share about how they became connected to cycling, as well.
Jen Jackson is the executive director for the Palouse Bicycle Collective, which began in 2017. She got into cycling because she went to school without a car. The fact that she doesn’t like driving much also contributed to her love for cycling.
One day, while riding her bike home in Hawaii during her college days, the tire became flat. As she walked past a nearby cycling shop, an employee came out and noticed her issue. Even though they were closed for the day, they helped her repair the flat and sent her on her way.
“It started from there. That’s how I got into it,” Jackson said.
She became good friends with the manager and soon became a barista and bike mechanic who trained in triathlons.
“Flat tires are a part of cycling,” she said.
Jackson said she is a life-long cyclist, from riding mountain bikes with clipped-in pedals during her childhood to eventually moving to more expensive road gear.
She eventually moved to Moscow, where she finished school at UI with a degree in exercise science.
Jackson has directed the Palouse Bicycle Collective for nearly three years now. The cooperatively owned bicycle shop helps riders fix their bicycles by teaching them about mechanics and repairs, letting them use the shop’s tools to fix their bikes and offering assistance when needed.
Jackson said the shop is the only cycling collective in the area. She said a unique aspect of managing the shop is seeing people interested in learning begin to grow as personal mechanics.
“If you’re not riding bicycles, you’re not breaking anything,” she said.
Jackson said the shop recycles some 2 to 5 tons of metal yearly, in hopes of keeping the waste out of landfills.
The shop also offers trades for work in exchange for bicycles or repairs for its customers.
She said working at the shop is a beautiful thing, especially when the employees have the opportunity to teach customers about repairs.
“Having someone find enjoyment in it is really why we’re here,” Jackson said.
Gavin Scoles, an employee at the collective for nearly three years, said he also enjoys working at the shop. Moving to Moscow when he was 5 years old, he grew up cycling on the Palouse.
Scoles became a personal mechanic because he was “too poor to pay people to work on bikes,” buying parts and tools while watching repair videos on YouTube.
He said he picked up some bad repair habits from his younger days, but the more senior mechanics at the collective are quick to correct him.
Scoles has four or five bikes currently, but one of his favorites is undoubtedly his dirt jumper. He has sunk hundreds of dollars into the bike, with it needing constant repairs to keep going.
“My dirt jumper is a constant money pit,” Scoles said.
The drive train issues put constant strain on the chain, leading to it going through three chains or so each year.
“There is a constant flow of cycling parts on that bike,” Scoles said.
Still, he’ll continue to sink money into it for the foreseeable future.
“It’s a pain in the butt, but I like the bike,” said Scoles, who is taking a break from UI while working.
Clevenger doesn’t believe in religion, but he does believe in something greater than himself. That something gave him a hint that owning a bike shop is a career path he should follow, he said.
“I’ve had hundreds of bikes in my life,” Clevenger said with a smile. “But this is the only bike that’s ever made it through since 1982.”
A new stem and handlebar, along with a pannier rack, sit on the bike. But the fork, crank and headset have made it through the various decades.
Clevenger said his bike recovery story solidified his belief he was pursuing the right career.
“A college education is fantastic, but if it’s in something you’re good at instead of something you love, you might not be happy for the rest of your life,” he said.