Gene and Jennifer Oberpriller rolled into work the other morning at about 9:00 a.m. They pulled up in front of One on One Bicycle Studio, the downtown Minneapolis coffee shop/bike shop/art gallery they own, and hitched their tattered, old road bikes to a signpost. Gene pushed his sunglasses into his dark, curly hair as he unloaded Hannah, the couple’s fourteen-month-old, from her Burley trailer.
It’s hard to resist labeling the Oberprillers as part of the recently coined “grup” demographic—grown-ups who retain their youthful cool, eschewing minivans and the suburbs even as they bear children of their own. For instance, the Oberprillers commute seven miles by bike, almost year round, from their home near Minnehaha Falls, arriving in time to greet the early crowd of fellow bike commuters who file into One on One for their morning brew.
The pair met as pro mountain bikers, both sponsored by Bianchi; Jennifer raced on weekends and holidays while attending the University of Minnesota, while Gene was able to make a modest income off the sport. He especially relished the itinerant lifestyle he lived on the U.S. race circuit. “It was sort of like being in a band,” he said.
As with being in a band, bike racing isn’t meant to be a lifelong career. After retiring, Gene did stints as a bike messenger and at the Alternative Bike and Board shop in Uptown. Both he and Jennifer also worked at Quality Bicycle Products, a distribution company in Bloomington. Gene was fired (twice), but Jennifer eventually became the marketing director. Jennifer lived alone during this time while Gene maintained his footloose lifestyle, hanging and rooming with local rockers and hardcore cyclists. In fact, he first discovered the building that now houses One on One—back then, in 1990, it was the notorious Yoshiko’s Sauna—when he took over a room upstairs from the drummer for Soul Asylum.
These days, Hannah is the most obvious sign of the couple settling down. Jennifer also does the accounting for One on One and oversees the café, while Gene curates the bike-themed art exhibitions and serves as the enterprise’s all-around style director. He selects the various offbeat brands, such as Bianchi and Surly, in which the bike shop specializes, and also deals in vintage bikes, hunting them down from as far away as Switzerland.
Then there’s the clothing and accessories. Gene believes that cyclists operate at the forefront of fashion trends, and so he’s always on the lookout for cutting-edge gear—everything from seventies-inspired “heritage” Adidas jerseys to One on One onesies and riding socks that assert “Your Bike Sucks.”
For himself, now that he’s something of a nine-to-fiver, Gene strictly eschews technical garb for the purposes of commuting. Instead, he goes for rock ’n’ roll T-shirts and rolled-up jeans. Carhartt pants are another favorite, especially when made into Bermuda-length cut-offs. He’s also a fan of Swobo, a San Francisco-based line of fashionable-yet-bike-friendly street wear, which includes designer tees and finely detailed jerseys—all without a lick of Lycra. Speaking of polyester, as the mercury pushes seventy, neither Oberpriller will be wearing the sort of high-tech, moisture-wicking fabrics that keep riders cool and dry. Both regard this style as being too fussy. In this matter, it helps that they’ve both put their racing days behind them, so that they can avoid reeking up the workplace. “We just don’t ride fast!” said Gene. “We ride fast enough to get there, but slow enough to not sweat.”
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