Why I Ride Fixed Gear Bikes

By: Evan Krupa

If you’ve ever thrown a leg over a fixed gear, you know it ain’t your regular Sunday spin. There’s no coasting, no free ride. Just you, the machine, and the hum of chain and asphalt singing under your tires. It’s stripped-down, bare-bones, honest. Like a good whiskey or a late-night song that don’t need polishing.

I been pushing pedals on these one-gear beasts for over a decade now—city to city, rain or shine, coffee-stained mornings and neon nights. Grew up chasing dirt on mountain trails, flying down rocky veins of earth with mud on my teeth. But the road… the road was too clean. Too quiet. Like a jukebox with no soul. Then I found the fixie, and everything clicked—the tension, the rhythm, the fight and the flow.
On a fixed gear, every move’s a conversation. You don’t ride it—you dance with it. Your legs are the brakes, the throttle, the heartbeat. One wrong move and the street will let you know who’s boss. But when it’s right—man, it’s right. The bike hums, the world blurs, and it’s just you and the road trading secrets.
My steed’s a Surly Steamroller. Tough as a junkyard dog, smooth as a late-night sax solo. She’s hauled me through commutes and long hauls, 28 miles a day sometimes, dodging taxis, potholes, and whatever the city throws my way.
That’s why I started this little corner of the internet—to spill what I’ve learned. The grease, the grind, the joy of keeping it simple. If you’re curious about fixed gears or just looking to make your daily ride a little more human, stick around. I’ll talk setups, gear, survival tricks, and how to make the road your friend.
Riding fixed made every mile sing again. It turned the daily grind into something worth savoring. So grab your bike, find your rhythm, and let’s roll together—no gears, no fluff, just the road and the ride.