All I want for Christmas is a brand new Pinarello Dogma; dressed in Super Record, in lovely black and red. No, I really want a Moots Cyclo Cross titanium racing bike. No, I want…

It was probably a bad time to visit my LBS (Local Bike Shop) to try on a new pair of knicks. But as I contemplated the fit and concept of a new pair of duds to update my usual threadbare look, I looked out over the top of the changing room door to note a frenzied scrum of portly matrons fighting over any and every two bit bike they could secure on the shop floor. You see… it’s the Christmas bike buying spree again. The annual orgy of cheap Chinese junk bike buying for kids without the vaguest inclination or interest to ride; or really to engage in anything too far from their well worn couch.

I am wondering about the fate of all these dinky bikes. How many will be ridden more than twice? How many will end up in the local land fill. How many will earn rust rather than respect? I am wondering if giving a bicycle is actually a good idea. I am not convinced that the target intended’s will be contemplating universal joy at the prospect. And I am quite sure my LBS team is not particularly thrilled by this annual ritual either.

Consider this. If you give a drain-pipe, lead-weight bicycle to an unsuspecting kid, what will be the impression of cycling they receive? The gift of a bike is actually a gateway to the gift of cycling. But if you give a dodgy bike, that might taint the experience of cycling for life. Let’s face it. When we first start to ride, any and every hill is a struggle. Distances are limited by the fragility of our unaccustomed rear ends. If a bike is heavy, hills hurt even more. If a seat is of the usual el cheapo ultra padded cushioned kind, the rear end will hurt with a perversity linearly related to the depth of that spurious padding. No. The gift of a Christmas bike can actually cut any latent cycling desires for life. Is that what our frenzied Christmas bike buyers are about?

It’s not just bikes for little kids that can go so terribly wrong. I was observing a stupendously well-intentioned young lady buying her unsuspecting boyfriend an entry level racing bike. It was a capable machine; worthy of enduring rides and genuine sporting endeavour. But, how would a gift like that be perceived? There is a kicker in the tail of the gift of cycling that few acknowledge and for which virtually no unsuspecting giftee is ever prepared. Cycling is most definitely NOT just about the bike. It’s a culture of endeavour that requires; demands; insists on a life-embedded allocation of time and persistent dedication. It takes months to wear the body in. It takes months to break through the barriers of pain to the point where riding becomes an unmitigated joy. Cycling fitness needs to be earned. You can’t tie a dose of fitness to the bars of that Christmas bike like some kind of energy gel. The most important accessory to cycling cannot be purchased in any shop. Cycling fitness can’t be purchased at all. And that is the true beauty of cycling; and it’s greatest curse.

Who these days is prepared to break anything in? Who these days is prepared to wear pain of any kind? If you never had fitness, how can you judge the joys of its possession? Cycling is a rare endeavour. It requires a commitment beyond the reach of cash. But then again, the rewards are also beyond the dimension of money as well.

The bicycle is just the entry point into the vastly greater space that cycling represents. When you give the gift of a bike, will that seedling actually take hold? What are the odds? Pretty low by my observation. But there are ways and means to improve the strike rate that any bike gift giver would intend. For starters, do those who give a bike also ride? If not, the chances of a successful graft are slim. Are you prepared to redecorate your life and the life of all those around you to nurture the cycling gift? This is not some kind of computer game the kids can pursue on their own. The world of our lives needs to fold, if just a little, around the life shaping realities that cycling can unleash. If all you are prepared to commit and the degree to which you are prepared to adapt is the occasional sideways glance, then your cycling intentions would be better served through a photograph, brochure or velo-arpres tee shirt instead.

I have a theory. Bicycles should never be given, they should always be earned. Desire breeds intent. Intent leads to preparedness and preparedness leads to mindful purchase. Purchase has a purpose. Purpose means there’s a plan. Is the plan to ride the road? To ride the trails? To stunt jump off walls? These intentions shape the choice of bike and all that supporting gear.

If someone has a well-developed plan, then, perhaps, the generosity of a Christmas benefactor can play a useful role. Perhaps you can pay for an upgrade over your intended’s current choice; or a great set of cycling shoes, or a helmet, or a set of spare tyres. These are the customers most LBS’s prefer. Real bike shops are into the business of cycling, rather than just the business of selling bikes. The gift of cycling is, really, too big for the rituals of Christmas time.