Owner of Hooksett hand-made bike business challenged by steel tariffs

Ryan Burnham opened Handz Bicycles on Route 28 in Hooksett in April, relocating his custom-made bike shop from Plaistow. (Photos by Mike Richeson)

The career path of bike builder Ryan Burnham has been anything but a straight line. Instead, it’s more reminiscent of an undulating race course, a long, tortuous route with highs and lows, twists and turns, and all kinds of obstacles in between.

Following years of preparation in both bike repair and frame building, Burnham opened his new storefront — Handz Bicycles — on Route 28 in Hooksett, in April. He’s been turning a small profit, but he’s still recovering after moving his shop from Plaistow.

“The move was expensive but has been profitable,” says Burnham, whose custom bikes sell for $4,000 to $6,000.

A dark cloud accompanied the shop’s grand opening. The moment Burnham realized his longheld dream, the federal government announced a series of tariffs levied against the countries that provide the majority of the steel tubing he needs to build his high-end bicycles.

“It’s hitting the bike industry in a very hard way, and it’s also hitting the manufacturing side of it, which they don’t seem to think about,” Burnham says. “Half my tubing is Italian or Japanese. That’s going to get hit with tariffs really bad.”

Burnham, who financed his company with his own capital and a personal loan, works on his own but has hopes of hiring employees. That’s not on the table right now.

“It’s insane, especially being a small shop. All of our vendors right now, all my distributors, are telling us that prices are going up,” he says. “Big shops are in a panic buy. They’re just buying up everything. I don’t have that ability, and that’s very frightening to me, when all I’m doing here is service and some small retail.”

Still, Burnham says he’s optimistic he can weather the tariff storm. Unlike most traditional local bike shops, Handz doesn’t have a large retail component. In addition to building bikes, Burnham is a top-notch mechanic, a craft honed while serving various welding apprenticeships.

Burnham is among a handful of custom bike builders in the region. New Hampshire’s only other custom-frame shop is 44 Bikes in Lyndeborough, owned by Kristofer Henry.

“Used bikes and service are going to thrive in the next couple of years, while this stuff figures itself out,” Burnham says. “I don’t think new bikes are going to be that profitable, and I feel a lot of shops are going to take huge hits from (the tariffs).”

New Hampshire born and bred (a native of Exeter, he now lives in Epping with his wife, Alesha), Burnham says he’s always loved bicycles, riding them, tinkering with them and eventually racing them. After a decade in the restaurant industry, Burnham switched gears, literally.

“I was always working on bikes at that point, making bikes into fixies (fixed-gear) and single speeds,” he says. “A friend of mine asked me if I wanted to come work at a bike shop and learn, and the rest is history.”

That shop was Riverside Cycles in Newburyport, Massachusetts. The friend, Scott Dallaire, was the shop’s master mechanic who helped Burnham transform his hobby to a profession. At Riverside, Burnham also met general manager Tom Reinke, who would be a mentor over the ensuing years.

“I took a 50% pay cut to just go learn how to work on bikes properly,” Burnham says. “I started at the bottom and worked my way up to the top.”

Riverside was the start of a peripatetic, 15-year journey. Burnham worked at several shops before becoming an apprentice with Guipago Cycles’ owner Billy James Witcher, who was building lugged steel frames out of a shed next to his home in Goffstown.

“I had really gotten passionate about ‘80s and ‘90s Japanese steel frames. I just loved the look and feel of them,” Burnham says. “I really wanted to make my own, and learn how to braise and do all that. I went to a bunch of handmade bike shows and asked everybody if they needed an apprentice and teach me. Nobody would.

“I went to Bill’s booth (at a Rhode Island bike show), and I found a bike he had set up,” he says. “I grabbed the brakes and said, ‘Man, these brakes feel like s**t.’ He looked right at me and I said, ‘You need a good mechanic, and I want to learn how to build frames. I’ll do all your mechanic work, and you teach me how to build frames.’ And he was like, ‘OK, deal.’” Witcher, who has since relocated to western Massachusetts, taught Burnham the basics of braising and welding thin-walled steel tubes required for lightweight bicycles. Supplementing his frame building passion with mechanic work at local shops and for several professional racers, Burnham then landed a job with manufacturer Independent Fabrication in nearby Newmarket.

“That’s where I learned a lot. My job was what they called tacking,” he says. “I would basically take all the tubes, design all the rear ends with all my bends, figure out where everything needs to be, and then filet them on the jig, tack them and send them off to welding. I was the first step. It really taught me how to make a frame.”

The next step was welding school at Great Bay Community College in Rochester. While earning his welding certification, Burnham revisited a long-running conversation with legendary bike builder Ted Wojcek. Already in his 70s, Wojcek had a sparking reputation for building exceptional steel bikes in his Plaistow shop.

“He’s almost got this mythic status,” Burnham says.

“He was very innovative and ahead of his time.”

Burnham bought Wojcek’s business and the trademark to the Wojcek name in 2021. For a year, Wojcek continued at the business, acting as a consultant and finishing up frames promised to previous customers.

“I learned how to use all of his machines, which are all his own fixtures. Everything was different from what I was used to,” Burnham says. “That was the biggest learning curve. I learned a lot about metallurgy and different methods for welding and brazing. And anytime I had an idea or a question, he was right there to help me. It was a nice transition to starting my own thing.”

Concurrently, Burnham launched his own brand, Handz Bicycles, with the tagline “Live Free, Ride Hard.” The name Handz is a tribute to “handmade” frames, as well as a good-natured nod to Burnham’s nickname at Riverside.

“I set up a hybrid bike the way I would like my own bike, with all the shifting and the brakes really close,” he says. “The sales manager (Reinke), who is a big six-foot-four guy, grabbed the brakes, and goes ‘Who the hell built this? Somebody with baby hands?’ That became my nickname, Baby Hands. Now, a lot of people just called me Hands.”

Still, Burnham wasn’t done moving. The Plaistow shop was too big, too secluded. Burnham envisioned a business where he could do both his frame building and repair work while being more accessible. When a smaller space at Hill Haven Park in Hooksett became available, Burnham grabbed it. The nondescript storefront has an understated “Handz Bicycles” sign on the front door, and a small bike, with a flagpole and “Open” flag replacing the seatpost out front.

Inside, there are just a few bikes, mostly Burnham’s creation — a “Dirty Handz” mountain bike, a “Smooth Handz” road bike, a “Muddy Handz” cyclocross rig, and his favorite, a “Dusty Handz” gravel bike. There are a few items for sale, such as bike helmets and other cycling accessories, but not much else. Near the front counter is a work stand, where Burnham can do repair or maintenance jobs while keeping an eye out for customers.

Behind this cozy front room, hidden by a wall and mirrored window, is the operations center of Handz Bicycles. The large, open space is filled with the tools of the bike-building trade, including alignment jigs, milling machines and welding instruments.

This is where Burnham takes steel tubing from various suppliers and creates his frames, before they’re sent to Cary’s Custom Powder in Newton, NH, for painting. The frames, from stock to custom, range from $1,800 to “the sky’s the limit,” he says. His customers, says Burnham, are willing to pay a premium for a bike that isn’t built overseas.

“Having the bikes made in New Hampshire, and locally, is a driving factor for a lot of people,” Burnham says. “To have somebody working closely with you is important. Obviously, a custom bike is just that — it’s a custom bike that’s made just for you.”

Burnham says he’s encouraged by Greater Manchester’s lively cycling scene, and he’s already leading group rides out of the shop over nearby trails to help nurture that community. As of early June, the looming threat of tariffs hadn’t yet affected the price of steel tubing. But the manufacturers of the bike parts used to make a complete bike, from wheels to brakes and other components, have all increased prices.

“I love the idea — bring manufacturing back to America. Love it. It’s not going to work, not for everything,” Burnham says. “I’m a New Hampshire man, through and through. Live free or die, don’t tread on me, don’t take my taxes. I think we should pay some taxes, but not like this. It’s infuriating.”

Handz Bicycles is located at 146 Londonderry Turnpike, Unit 4, in Hooksett. For details, visit handzbicycles.com.