I’ve spent the last two years as a runner — actively training, chasing marathons, the whole thing.
by Corey Herscu
Then a few months ago my knee gave out, and just like that, my training stopped. No races on the calendar, no long runs to structure my week around. I was in a bit of an athletic rut, and honestly, a bit of a mental one too.
A friend suggested cycling. Low-impact, easy on the joints, still gets the heart rate up. It made sense. There was just one problem: I didn’t own a bike. And with three kids — including a son who’d just learned to ride this summer — getting one felt like it should’ve been simple. It wasn’t.
Buy new or used? Trust some stranger on Facebook Marketplace or Kijiji? I’d heard enough scam stories to make me nervous about handing cash to someone I’d never met for a bike I couldn’t properly inspect. So I did what a lot of people do when they’re overwhelmed: nothing. For weeks.
Then, in one of those moments where surveillance capitalism actually works in your favour, I started seeing ads for a brand called Butter. Locally-owned, locally-made, hands-on service — and based a few minutes from my house, right around Lawrence and Marlee in York. That last part sealed it. I messaged the owner, Luca, booked a time, and went to check out the shop.
I was sold almost immediately. Luca’s the kind of guy you want running a small business — friendly, clearly knows bikes inside and out, and honest about what he’s building: a one-man operation trying to make it work in a city that isn’t always kind to small, local shops. He walked me through the lineup: a $349 Single Speed for people who want dead-simple and low-maintenance, a $449 3-Speed Pro for a bit more range without much added complexity, and the $999 Gravel Bike for people who wanted one bike to do everything. I went in undecided and left with the Gravel Bike — essentially an 11-speed hybrid road bike that could handle whatever I needed, from commuting to family rides to longer weekend efforts, without needing a second bike for “serious” riding. At $999, it landed right where I wanted to be: more capable and better built than anything I’d find at a big-box store, without venturing into the $2,000+ territory a lot of boutique shops start at.
That bike kicked off an entirely new relationship with the outdoors for me. It turns out cycling is fun. Genuinely, unexpectedly fun. And a lot kinder to my knee than running ever was.
Since then, I’ve taken it everywhere.
Short, easy loops around the neighbourhood with my kids. Longer rides with friends — I’m still riding the high from a 45km day that felt like a real accomplishment. I’ve taken it through Toronto’s trails and out to Collingwood, over paths, up hills that made me question my life choices, and down long, winding roads that made it all worth it. Through all of it, the bike just performed. No drama, no surprises — it did what I needed, every time.
Somewhere along the way, I found myself wearing a bib. I look a little ridiculous in it, if I’m being honest, but I’m owning it. I’ve joined a couple of cycling clubs too, partly for the social side, partly because I wanted to actually get good at this and figured riding with people who know what they’re doing was the fastest way there. Between the bike, the bib, and the new group chats, I’ve gone from “guy who doesn’t own a bike” to “guy who plans his weekend around a ride” faster than I expected.
The one hiccup: a few weeks in, something started feeling slightly off with the bike — nothing dramatic, just a sense that it wasn’t riding quite as smoothly as it had. I booked an appointment with Luca, dropped it off, and had it back, fixed, within 48 hours. That’s covered under the bike’s one-year warranty, and honestly, that turnaround — from a shop where the person doing the fixing is also the person who sold it to you and remembers exactly what you bought — is hard to find anywhere in this city.
Looking back, what started as a knee injury and a mild sense of panic about buying a bike from a stranger on the internet turned into one of the better decisions I’ve made this year. For $999, I got a reliable bike that’s handled everything from school-run errands to a 45km trail ride, a local shop owner who actually picks up the phone (or the text) when something’s wrong, and — somewhat unexpectedly — a new hobby and a new community.
Not bad for a bike I almost didn’t buy.
Connect with Luca here to see what all the fuss around Butter Bikes is all about.