There’s a greater-than-zero probability that if you’re reading this right now, you’re familiar with the popular term, “n+1”, where “n” is the number of bikes you own currently, and “n+1” is the number of bikes you’re supposed to own.
The thought behind it is harmless enough – and its intentions lighthearted. After all, bikes are fun and bring us endless joy, and so the logical conclusion is that having more bikes is better than having fewer of them. Not surprisingly, more than a few of us subscribe to the whole “n+1” thing like it’s some kind of mandate.
I mean, seriously, who doesn’t want more bikes, right?
In reality, though, it’s a somewhat misguided philosophy that only encourages people to make hasty decisions about their gear.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with buying more bikes (or bike gear) if doing so adds something meaningful and positive to your life and doesn’t overly stress your finances. I love bikes as much as anyone, and am plenty guilty of having more than a few myself. However, “n+1” promotes the idea that simply adding “more” is always the right answer, when it really shouldn’t be.
Instead, the goal should be to have the right bikes – however many that is.
What exactly it means to have the “right” bikes is tough to define explicitly as everyone’s wants and needs will differ. However, we all know them when we see (or, rather, ride) them. They’re the ones that do exactly what you want them to, like they’re an extension of your body. They’re the ones you turn around to look at one more time when you walk away. They’re the ones that bring a smile to your face every time you throw a leg over them, and the ones that somehow make all the ills of the world disappear as you gleefully roll along. The stuff that fills your bucket.
Regardless of what “right” means to you, there should always be a level of intent behind your purchases. Nice bikes and gear are hardly inexpensive these days, and few of us are complaining about having too much money to spend so it’s more important than ever to be mindful before plunking down the credit card.
Yet how are you supposed to know what’s right for you and what makes sense? After all, the overwhelming message out there is “more is better”, and we’re all inundated with an endless stream of fresh and new with every brand trying their damnedest to elbow into your bank account. It’s far too easy to get sucked into the vortex where you’re constantly told that the shiny thing is always better than what you have now, and that you can never have too much of a good thing.
Simply put, there’s just way too much gear out there, and without someone to provide even a little bit of guidance – real, trustworthy, and informed guidance – it can be incredibly challenging to know what’s worth your money.
This is where n-1 comes in.
To be clear, I do not consider myself to be a special rider in any way.
I’m not particularly fast or skilled. The first digit of my threshold power consistently starts with a “2” and the only trick I’ve ever bothered to achieve any proficiency in is a trackstand. I know I could/should train more to get stronger, and I use Strava more as a diary and less as a carrot. My sense of self-preservation has grown in lockstep with my age. I hold no records, no grand victories, no KOMs or FKTs, and have no plans to chase any.
But what I have gotten very good at over the last twenty years is evaluating a wide range of bikes and gear: road and mountain, gravel and ‘cross, analog and e-assist, cargo and sport. I’ve dissected their ins and outs, teased out their highlights and their flaws, and examined them through the lens of both a long-time shop mechanic (I’m going to be taking apart a lot of things here) and someone who’s spent way too many hours breaking things in a lab, all without preconceptions or either explicit or implicit pressure from someone looking over my shoulder.
My opinions and findings have always been mine, and mine alone.
I may see things though the eyes of an experienced tester and enthusiast, but just as I’ve done full-time for most of the biggest and best-known publications in the business, my pledge with n-1 is to present my conclusions with an even hand and without condescension. I don’t pretend to always be right, but I do profess to always call it as I see it, and I’ve got a track record of honesty nearly 20 years long to back it up. My goal is the same as it’s always been: to help guide people through the wilderness of bikes and gear, hopefully so you can come out the other side with a smile on your face and the wind at your back.
Nothing more, nothing less.
What exactly will that look like here? To be perfectly honest, I’m still figuring that out, and it’ll definitely be a work in progress. I plan to focus on gravel and cross-country, and all-road and trail, with occasional detours into road, cargo, e-bike, bikepacking, and any other cycling-related topics that I think people might find interesting.
Put in more concrete terms, it’ll be something like the following:
Unbiased, experienced, mindful, and hyper-detailed firsthand reviews of bikes and gear you can trust so that you can know what’s actually worth buying – and more importantly, what isn’t.
A weekly newsletter summarizing what you need to know in the world of bicycle tech.
Regular factory/facility tours.
Healthy servings of tech and maintenance tips, tricks, and Q&A, from both me and whatever professional mechanics I can fool into working with me on this thing.
Interviews and discussions with key industry figures to explain the who, what, where, when, and why behind the finished products you see in shops.
Regular commentary on industry trends that might affect the gear you’re interested in.
Deep-dive features on various tech topics that warrant further discussion.
Lots of big, beautiful images in full-width and high resolution.
A Slack channel where you’ll not only be able to chat amongst yourself, but will also have direct access to me and my collection of occasionally useful knowledge.
Almost certainly a podcast, and probably some video to go with it.
In other words, it’s going to be all gear and tech, all the time (perhaps with an infrequent detour into baking or other randomness). The overall goal will be two posts per week with a TBD split between paid subscriber-only and free content, all funded exclusively by users.
This means no industry ads or sponsored content, no curated commercial partnerships, no affiliate links, no “collabs” – and definitely no hidden investors.
Is this a recipe for financial disaster in this business? Maybe, but I also feel strongly that this is how it needs to be done. If n-1 works, it’ll be through the support of all of you, and I’ll be incredibly excited about it. And if it doesn’t, it doesn’t, and I’ll be ok with it as I’m not willing to compromise my ideals to get this where I’d like it to be.
N-1 will live on this weirdo Substack platform for now, and since I’m still figuring it out, I’m surely going to make a whole bunch of mistakes as I get things rolling. And for the time being, it’ll be just me – although hopefully not for long.
Oh, and when will this thing actually kick off? Very soon – as in, within the next couple of weeks.
Alright, that’s where I am on this at the moment, but enough from me. More importantly, what would you all want to see from this? Does this sound appealing? Am I wasting your time? Am I wasting my time? Is it something you’d be willing to pay for? If so, how much? Keep in mind there will likely be multiple tiers, and the content itself will likely be split between free and paid-only.
Regardless, I obviously have my own thoughts here, but I’m also more than open to suggestions. Let me know what you think about all of this in the comments below, and no need to hold back (you don’t spend as long as I have in this line of work without developing a thick skin).
And maybe – just maybe – hit that ‘subscribe’ button to join me on this new journey.
Sincerely,
James
Happy for you James. I’m also intrigued by your vision. However I’m puzzled as to what the differentiating factor between n-1 and Escape Collective is going to be? I subscribe to the latter and enjoyed your content during your tenure there (and previous endeavors). Have EC lost their way to such an extent that you felt compelled to strike out on your own and get back to your ideal vision for the industry and the journalistic voice that ideally keeps it honest?
I’m excited to follow and see what’s next. Missing your voice in the industry.