Some time in the next few months, moving trucks will arrive at the loading dock behind 117 Washington Av. N. in Minneapolis and begin loading up the bicycles, tools and espresso machines inside.
One on One Bicycle Studio, a venerable pioneer in both the bike shop business and the grittier history of the city's North Loop, is moving out of a neighborhood that has apparently left it behind.
"We just don't fit in any more," said Gene Oberpriller, who with his wife, Jennifer, moved into the neighborhood 29 years ago. "Mountain bikes are cool, but they aren't riding them downtown."
One on One's move, probably in February, is a moment worth marking, for the three-decade arc it represents for both the city and its cycling culture and history. The late 1980s were decidedly pre-bike lane. And how dicey was Washington Avenue back then?
"In 1989 you couldn't get a pizza delivered around here," Gene Oberpriller said the other day, sitting in the back of his shop. "Nobody'd come."
The Oberprillers, veterans of Quality Bicycle Products, former bike couriers and mountain bike racers, first lived above Yoshiko's Massage and Sauna at 117 Washington before opening a bike shop of sorts in the building's basement; some of the merchandise was pulled from alleys and dumpsters. When the city closed Yoshiko's as a public menace ("It was full-on red light," Oberpriller said), they were invited by the owner to move upstairs.
What developed — after tearing out a maze of small rooms and a formidable sauna — became a crossroads for emerging crowds of off-road bikers, bike messengers and musicians (Grant Young of Soul Asylum, among others, moved in upstairs). When the coffee shop went in, what also emerged was an early prototype of the bike shop as regular destination. The Warehouse District, as it was then known, got its neighborhood community room.
"We created a unique little place. It worked," said Oberpriller, 56. He added, slyly, "We're kind of punk. We've been accused of being hipster, but that's not true."