Minutes after I walked into Boulder’s Community Cycles, shop manager Gary Gingras told me, “Use the tools in the shop and take this bike apart,” as he pointed to a dirty but organized counter covered with wrenches, screwdrivers and countless doodads I’d never seen before. He then scurried off to help one of the other dozen people in the bustling building.

“OK,” I thought to myself, examining each part of the colorless, rust-encrusted bicycle. Nuts, bolts, wheels—at least I knew what those were.

Through this nonprofit’s Earn-A-Bike program, I would be spending 15 hours learning about bike maintenance through hands-on experience, and then I would build a bike with parts donated by Community Cycles. Volunteers and a few paid staffers would help me and the 20 to 30 other aspiring mechanics who participate weekly.

“Through the Earn-A-Bike program, we try hard to show and teach people that riding a bike is healthy and sustainable,” Gingras explains. “We try to help people be confident should they ever need to fix a flat or adjust the brakes. Taking that knowledge with them, we hope to keep them riding and help them to become more of a commuter.”

Community Cycles’ official mission is to educate and advocate the safe use of bicycles for transportation and enjoyment. That goal permeates every aspect of the organization, from the outreach programs it promotes in local, regional and even international communities to the feeling of solidarity fostered in the shop.

Plus, it brings together people from all walks of life, adds board member Wanda Pelegrina Caldas. “Our venue exposes people to other situations, languages, cultures and biking styles on a daily basis. We do not isolate any particular group; rather, everyone works together under one roof, and there is social interaction without necessarily pointing out differences. Love of bikes ties us all together.”

She adds that some people with the least amount of experience have become the organization’s most fervent volunteers. “Several of our volunteers are homeless, disabled and/or dealing with serious illness,” she says. “I have heard and witnessed their stories of survival and their comments on how Community Cycles gives them a sense of purpose, belonging, ownership and hope.”

Longtime volunteer Peter Allen suffered from a debilitating disease that caused him to lose feeling from his knees down and left him holed up in his house for a few years. After he relearned how to ride on a bike donated by Community Cycles, his life changed. Not only did he find “camaraderie” at the shop, but he also became “addicted to working on bikes. I’m there just about every day now,” he says.

Gingras, who worked for a similar program back east, says volunteers participate because they really feel like they are giving back. He actually changed his career because he felt so strongly about being more engaged in all aspects of the bicycle world. Because of the hard work of Gingras and others, Community Cycles continues to successfully advocate for more bike lanes and parking, and to make cycling a “more accepted mode of transport.” Plus, they keep people on bikes that were headed for the landfill.

“This is really cool; it’s like bike recycling,” says “EABiker” Dan Furlani. For Furlani, a tech guy who assembles hard drives, building a bike was “only natural,” and working at Community Cycles was an enjoyable experience.

I was there because I wanted a road and commuter bike so I wouldn’t have to drive as much, and I wanted the skills to take care of it. Though I flailed that first day, after just one week I learned how to change shifters, replace brake cable, align wheels by adjusting the spokes and change tires, among other things. I walked out of Community Cycles the proud owner of a Bianchi Eros.

Top left: The author working on her soon-to-be "new" commuter bike.