Outdoor Retailer - Summer 2019 - 31

Feature .01
something that a different store might have,
owners will send them to the proper place.
Atlanta is not necessarily a cycling-friendly city, but the Hassans are doing their best to
change that. Atlanta was recently named one
of the worst places to commute by transit or car,
and for Atlanta's 372,455 commuters, getting
around town takes an average of 53 minutes by
bus or train, and 35 minutes in a car. Ezz's bike
route from The Spindle to his house? Fifteen
minutes-occasionally it's longer if he stops to
talk to somebody, but he sees that as a perk, and
it appears others do too-business is picking up.
A shop like this might only be possible in a
place like Atlanta, but you can't know that
without understanding the place's history. The
Spindle sits in East Atlanta, in one of the oldest sections of the city. Dr. Martin Luther King
Jr.'s home is right up the street, and Ebenezer
Baptist Church,the place where he once co-pastored, is not far away. Over the last two decades,
Atlanta has evolved from America's country
cousin with its nose in the history books to the
star of the cotillion-the one that knows how
to entertain.
As Atlanta's music and movie reputation
grows, the city has become a hotbed for development, and the rapidly changing stretch
where The Spindle sits is now home to a number of corporate chains. High-rises and multiuse developments capitalize on what used to be.
Studioplex, a former cotton mill site has been
transformed into a series of small business
and doctor's offices. Shops constantly spring
up along the Beltline, an old railroad corridor
turned recreational trail.
Rates are rising and development, along with
the gentrification that comes with it, feels imminent-two streets away it's already arrived, in
the form of high-end eateries with price points
that are cost prohibitive for lifelong neighborhood residents created by those who don't live
in the city. Atlanta Stove Works, a former potbelly stove and iron-pan factory, is now home to
a series of restaurants and creative offices. In the
space that used to be the shop's parking lot sits a
series of $1.4 million condos in what used to be
the shop's parking lot. Shake Shack, a symbol of
"progress" akin to Trader Joe's or Whole Foods,
is a short walk away.
"Gentrification is a real thing," Sharif says.
"This city is gonna grow and unless you're part of
it, it's not going to be in the direction you want."
Make no mistake, the brothers realize that
development is the mark of a healthy economy,
but they worry about the creatives being crowd-

ed out. "It is great for a place like this to exist for
these artists. Some days the shop is empty. Some
days you see people from your state legislature
stopping for coffee. That means things are getting done here and I'm providing space for that.
Yeah the reality of the business succeeding or
not is luck, but to leave here without making an
impact? That is not an option," Sharif says. He
leans on his broom and looks out the window
toward the condos at the end of the street. The
lyrics from Fidlar's "40 Oz. On Repeat" stream
through the speakers and spill into the space.

MAKING A NAME
Ezz Hassan sews
The Spindle logo
onto a custom bag
in the workshop.

"It's the same as being a teacher," Sharif reasons. "You may teach hundreds of students,
but you're really depending on one or two
people to take in what you've taught. We do
this as a career, but we're really doing it to
give people a voice."

he sun has set on Atlanta, but the
vibe from the pop-up dinner is still
a buzz. The Spindle stays open the
latest of all the local bike shops,
so people tend to congregate here and grab
a beer before talking bikes or perusing the
Hassans'latest offerings. Up front the song
"Web" by Thee Oh Sees plays in the background while Ezz tinkers with a used bike.
Today's looker is an orange 1985 Specialized
Stumpjumper, described by the company as
the ultimate trail bike and "the most versatile trail bike we've ever made." But Ezz, along
with shop assistant Joey Juaristi and friend
Andy Lovell, are giving it a bit of Atlanta iden-

tity, something quirky that adds to the bike's
persona and accentuates it's showstopping
color. That's the sort of thing people look for
when buying a bike, a little tweak, like sweep
back bars instead of the short mountain biking
straight bars that usually come with the ride.
"They don't make them like this-with these
lugs-anymore," Ezz says as he examines the
frame, thinking about what the bike needs in
order to be a sturdy bikepacker.
The Spindle plans to sell more used bikes
like this to fill a need they've seen with their
customers. The goal is to provide people with
starter bikes for touring at an entry-level price
point. Once a bicycle like this is outfitted with
racks and bags, it will sell in the relatively reasonable $800 to $1,000 price range.
The Spindle has already had a number of repeat customers for these bikes. "A rider bought
a frame for herself, now she wants me to do one
for her husband," Ezz says.
The Open sign at the front of the shop is no
longer lit up, but the friends keep tinkering until they're satisfied.
"It's not easy to do something that's never
been done before," Ezz says as he takes off his
hat, scratches his head and thinks about what
the pair has learned over the years. "You have to
struggle before you can win. I believe in these
bags and what this shop can do. You have to be
willing to look at what works and what doesn't.
You always want to improve what you're doing, but you can't be stubborn." He puts the
cap back on his head. "Adaptation is important-the store has evolved in many different
ways over the years and we've changed too." He
looks out the front windows at the valets across
the way, thinking about how much this neighborhood is changing. He turns back to the the
Stumpjumper. It's something he can fix.
No matter what the outcome, the brothers
take comfort in the fact that The Spindle has
been a safe haven for those who live nearby.
Joey insists,"For everyone here, part of this is
fostering community, and if you have ideas they
support you. This is a no-judgement zone. It's
a community space and a creative space. It's
about those things before it's about money."
Andy nods his head in agreement. "That's
why people come back here. I could be at home
doing the same thing by myself, or I could be
here with my friends doing it," he says.
"The only rule I have is ride your bike," Ezz
says and laughs. "Leaving it parked in the garage isn't just about you-it's unfair to the bike.
It's made to ride." O.R.

Summer 2019 / OUTDOOR RETAILER 31

Outdoor Retailer - Summer 2019

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