Ya know, I love the motorcycle business. It is what I live for. I get to work before 6 a.m. everyday and leave after 7 p.m. everyday - I don't take days off. My motto is that I'm open eight days a week (credit John Lennon). When I'm not here, I'm at a motorcycle event or show somewhere around the country. Every bit of my life is focused on motorcycles. My wife and I never take a vacation that's not centered around a bike event. I opened my shop up 10 years ago and I have not missed a day of work in all that time. We're closed only on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day, but I still come to work on those days. I use those days to get work done that I can't get done when the place is buzzing with people. My wife Susan has to call and make me come home as the turkey gets ready and the family starts to arrive.
Even though I'm living my dream, and it may be your dream as well, this business is not for everybody. Everybody thinks, "Man, bikes are really popular now, I think I'm gonna open me a bike shop, make a lot of dough, and have me some fun."
Guess what? It ain't that freaking easy. I have seen dozens and dozens of bike shops open and close because they have that philosophy. Even the great Donnie Smith recently told me that every week he sees a Grand Opening and every week he sees a Grand Closing. He's absolutely right. I see the same thing all over the country. And, the business is getting even tougher. The last five years have really been abnormal in that everybody had lots of business. That's all changing now. In the last 60 days, I've seen four good-size shops go out of business. This really sickens me. We're gonna have to work harder and smarter than ever before. This business is a lot of work just like any other business.
People are getting in this business with their eyes closed. They think all they have to do is open a bike shop, call it So & So Choppers, and sit back and count the dough as it starts to roll in. Wake up, that's a pipe dream baby! And everybody wants to be a bike builder. OK, let's see... to build a custom bike realistically takes three to six months (or more). Your profit on that bike is probably about $10,000. You do the math. Figure your time, labor, and parts costs. That's not enough profit to keep the lights on and the doors open.
Why have I been successful? Hard work, pal - and I'm lucky. I have a hell of a work ethic and my beautiful wife, Susan, understands how passionate I am about this business, so she allows me to do my thing. Also, my shop is more than just a motorcycle shop. Strokers Dallas is a very unique shop; it's more like an experience. We're housed in a 60-year-old building located 6 miles northwest of downtown Dallas. Walking around the shop, you'd see pictures of Marilyn Monroe, Bettie Page, Janis Joplin, Richard Nixon, Tom Landry, and myself in my early days of biking. There are statues on the roof of the Blues Brothers, GI Joe, dinosaurs, and more. We also have tons of cool neon signs in the shop as well as in the beer joint. We sell Big Dog and American IronHorse motorcycles, in addition to our custom bikes and consignment bikes; we usually have 70 to 100 bikes in stock. What makes us different is the setup we have here. On the same property, I own a bar & grill called Strokers IceHouse. It's very cool the way this works. We get thousands of people a week checking out the scene. On a nice Sunday afternoon we'll get over 1,000 bikes out here, and every one of those customers goes through the store and the bar. I've made my place a destination. We bring in live music four times a week and have bikini-clad girls selling ice-cold beer on the weekends - it's like a rally every weekend. You can probably tell that I like to blur the lines. Are we a motorcycle shop that sells beer or a beer joint that sells motorcycles? In fact, I operate both companies as one. When I opened this place, I had four employees; now I have over 50.
Since I opened Strokers, things have really changed. At first, the nearby Harley dealerships didn't give me any chance at all of surviving. "How could he survive?" they wondered. "He doesn't sell new Harleys."
I was betting my future on two unknown motorcycle manufacturers: Big Dog and American IronHorse. Back then, we couldn't give those bikes away. Boy, how times have changed. Then, I was the new kid; now, I'm like the old man. People are always asking my advice on how to do things, and I gladly share with them whatever I can. I want to see new people in the motorcycle industry, but I want them to go into it with their eyes open, knowing what to expect.
I also own a chrome plating/powdercoating shop called Show & Go. It has been in business in Dallas since 1971. I am trying to be a self-contained motorcycle empire - with my bike shop and beer joint I have no partners, nor do I want any. My dad and my brother helped me get started, as well as I received an SBA loan from the government and cashed in my 401k from Glidden Paint. Then I went to work.
Listen, I'm not trying to discourage anybody from getting into the motorcycle business; Lord knows it's been awesome for me. I'm just trying to tell people that it's hard work. You make your money when the sun shines; when it rains, you're lonely. During the winter it's a struggle just to survive. Just because you might be passionate about motorcycles, that doesn't mean you'll be successful in the motorcycle business. I ride less now than I ever have - I just don't have time because I'm always working. So the bottom line is, if you are thinking about entering the bike business, do your homework. It may not be as easy as you think.Rick Fairlesswww.strokersdallas.com