Similar to commissioned paintings or sculptures, custom one-off bicycles are personalized artworks tailored to individual preferences. But unlike most other artistic mediums, bikes are meant to be ridden and physically enjoyed. As such, they present a unique and meaningful connection between the builder and rider.
I've been obsessed with artisan-made bicycles for a long, long time. Back in my college days, the hardcover edition of The Golden Age of Handbuilt Bicycles was a mainstay on my coffee table. I'd thumb through it weekly, drooling over the gorgeous works of rideable art documented inside. However, as a poor university student living off a meager part-time retail salary, I merely took inspiration from the book for my own builds that I'd put together from frames sourced at thrift stores and our local bike co-op. I never thought I'd own anything like the René Herses or Alex Singers stunningly photographed in the book by Jean-Pierre Praderes.

In the deep end
About 10 years ago I began working in cycling media, with a partial focus on the community of small-scale makers creating rolling artwork in garages and workshops all over the world. As riding bicycles became a significant part of my work, I made it a priority for the bikes I purchased for myself to be unique from the production models I brought in for review.
Additionally, I realized that a custom fit would better serve my unusual body proportions, I craved the feel of metal over carbon fiber, and, when possible, I wanted to put my money directly into an individual's pocket rather than the coffers of a large corporation.

I consider myself quite fortunate. I have accumulated incredible bikes and components made by very talented craftspeople. From my Bender ATB and Fern gravel touring bike to my Scarab Paramo and Quirk All-road, each design experience has been rewarding and helped to forge lasting relationships with the people who have made the bikes. And who have displayed each one of those bikes at framebuilder showcases.

Admittedly, I don't need all the bikes I currently own. Rather, I'm apparently becoming a collector of sorts, replacing older production bikes with custom alternatives and adding fun and vintage models to my stable as I can. I'm hooked on both the participatory design-build aspects and actually getting to ride the fruits of the collective labor between me and the builders. I feel strongly about doing my part, however minuscule, to support the bespoke bicycle microeconomy, which consists of artisans often struggling to make ends meet.
Similar to art collectors, though, I've started to develop "what if" thoughts. "What if I had been able to commission a painting from Basquiat or an image from Adams?" translates to: "What if I had been commissioning bikes while Mario Confente, Brian Baylis, or Dario Pegoretti were still alive?"
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The legendary Rob Roberson
From the moment I first laid eyes on the ornate handcrafted lugs, seatstay caps, fork crowns, and other embellishments made by Rob Roberson, I knew I had to figure out how to get him to make me a bike. And I knew it wouldn't be easy.
Roberson is perhaps one of the most talented and experienced bicycle builders alive, yet he remains relatively unknown. Currently based in San Diego, he has worked on the craft for over 50 years, both in a production environment for California-based brands like Masi and Ibis, while also creating custom bikes under his own name.

Rob flies under the radar. He doesn't have a website. He doesn't own a cell phone. He doesn't care about marketing. His bikes usually have minimal branding. They are painstaking, labor-intensive endeavors. At this point in his career, he only makes the bikes he wants to, rather than needs to.
Thus, it takes some convincing and time to get him to take on a build, as each one he's made since I've known him has been billed as "his last." I initially asked for a frame three years ago. Today, it's finally complete and will be on display at the Made Handmade Bike Show in Portland, Oregon this weekend, where Roberson can receive a bit of the recognition he deserves.
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