Alyssa Gonzalez "Spaces For Connection"

Building Community, Spaces for Connection, Inclusive Leadership & Togetherness.

Alyssa Gonzalez is a cyclist, community organizer, and co-founder of Treehouse Cyclery — a community-based bike shop in Boulder, Colorado. Her work centers on elevating marginalized voices and creating more inclusive, welcoming spaces in the outdoor world. In this conversation, we find the thread between movement and meaning — and how, for Alyssa, it’s always come back to community.

S: What is Treehouse Cyclery?

A: We’ve always looked at it as a community hub — more than just a bike shop. It’s a space for people to explore whatever biking means to them, and for us to provide the tools and experiences to help them do that.

Forward-facing, it’s a full-service bike shop. And then, on a bigger, more holistic level, it’s a space where we want to embody whatever people see as showing up as a cyclist — whatever their idea of a cycling community is — and help implement that through what we do here.

S: What does community mean to you — and how did that idea take shape through Treehouse Cyclery?

A: Personally, I never thought much about community until I started getting into outdoor sports. I used to think of it more as your neighborhood or just the people around you — that kind of thing. But as I got older, I started thinking more about what community actually means: the people I choose to surround myself with, and wanting those people to share similar values, mindsets, or interests — people who are doing similar things and seeking shared experiences.

Community is a place to learn and grow from each other — not necessarily a homogenous group of people who are all exactly the same. For me, the thing I look for in community — and what I like most about it — is how diverse it can be, because you can learn so much from other people’s experiences.

And then, when it came to Treehouse — before I opened the shop — I was doing advocacy work in the outdoor industry, community organizing, and leading group rides and events.

I had personal experiences where I received scholarships or attended BIPOC events, where I’d be with other women of color doing something, or at women’s-only group rides. I found that to be a really powerful space to be in, and it deeply influenced my opinion of the sport and my desire to stay involved. When we started thinking about Treehouse, we wanted it to feel the same way.

In a lot of outdoor sports — especially cycling — people often experience it in a very individual way. So we wanted to bring more of that welcoming and inclusive community mindset to Treehouse, where no matter what type of cyclist you are, what kind of bike you have, or what you wear, you can still come here, buy something, join a group ride, or just browse and feel accepted in the space — to help people feel like they're not alone in the sport.

S: How important is it to have a place where people can gather around shared interests and come together?

A: I think it’s pretty important — at least for the kind of people Kolby (Treehouse Cyclery Co-Founder) and I are, and for our community. Especially with moving to Boulder and the space we wanted to create here, it was intentional. We wanted it to be a big, wide-open space so we could do things like we did for opening weekend — have 50+ people in here, all doing something together.

The idea of third spaces — it's something people are talking about more and more. They are public places outside of your home where people can connect. A lot of the time, they tend to be small businesses, coffee shops, things like that.

But in Boulder specifically, outside of coffee shops and a few other spots, there really aren’t many true third spaces where people can genuinely connect. Sure, there are places to hang out or bring a group, but nothing that acts as a real community hub. Creating something like that is important to us — and so is listening to our community about what they want from a space like this.

We’ve done a lot of work to actually talk with people in our community — asking, if there was a space like this, what would you want to see out of it?

And what we kept hearing was: people want a place to hang out after a ride, or just relax in the middle of the day. They wanted something open, with natural light, windows, doors, close to bike paths. So that’s what we tried to create.

And we’ve seen it — we’ve had a few friends who’ve come here almost every day since we opened. They bring their laptops, hang out, work, chill — sometimes they don’t even buy anything — and then they just leave and we’re like bye! have a good day!

The physical space really matters, especially in a town like this, where it often feels like your only options are home, the trail, or somewhere transactional. So this is a meaningful alternative.

S: I’ve always admired how your events invite people in — to share, to learn, to feel part of something. What sparked that? Was it something you wished you had when you were starting out?

A: When I first started biking four years ago — it was post-pandemic — there was a big surge in people getting into outdoor sports. Things were popping up, and that’s how I started getting involved. I saw all these different scholarships and groups forming. There was some of it out there, but definitely not a lot.

A lot of what we do here is a combination of things we wish we had when we were getting into the sport — and things we still wish we had now that we're more involved in it. It’s also about looking at other businesses, shops, and groups around the country that we look up to — the ones we think are doing a really good job — and being inspired by what they’re doing, seeing if it works here, and playing around with it, so it’s a little bit of both.

I think it’s important to us to be more than just a bike shop. From a business standpoint, you can’t really exist as just a business anymore — especially as a small business. You have to offer something more to get people excited about supporting you.

And on the other side of it, we actually want to create something meaningful for folks in the bike community — something that keeps people excited about riding, helps them grow, and encourages them to try new things or explore different kinds of riding.

S: How do you go about creating a space that feels genuinely welcoming — especially for folks who’ve felt left out of outdoor or cycling culture?

It's all trial and error. Every person's experience is different, and what makes them feel welcomed is different too. Inclusivity — or inclusion — is really about a sense of belonging. And that sense of belonging is about figuring out how to help people feel like they belong in something.

It’s kind of a trickle effect — a lot of different things that add up. I think a lot of how we try to build our spaces is, like I said, by talking to our community, hearing what their problems are, and trying to figure out how we can help solve those problems using the tools and resources we have.

In the past, we’ve done a lot of community organizing and had conversations with others doing similar work. And now, there are certain words — like inclusion or welcoming — that feel kind of trendy. People say things like, we want to create inclusive group rides or we want to build welcoming spaces, but the reality is, I can’t just declare this to be an inclusive and welcoming space.

That has to come from the people who actually show up. That’s where the trial and error comes in. We might create something we think is inclusive and welcoming — something we think people will love — and then someone goes on the ride and says, That was horrible. I got dropped. That wasn’t an enjoyable experience.

So it’s a lot of communication and feedback — really connecting with our community and talking to them, instead of just seeing them as people who buy stuff from us.

S: How do you keep that sense of closeness alive as the community grows and changes?

A: Kolby and I never set out to be a really large bike shop, and I think that helps us stay connected to our community. Like, it’s still just us. So if someone is working on your bike, it’s going to be Kolby. And if someone is leading events or group rides, it’s going to be me.

I think that helps create a connection — and also helps us maintain it. In some other spaces, you can bring your bike into a shop and three different people might work on it before you get it back. There’s a lot of disconnection there for some folks. That’s when people start looking at businesses like this as purely transactional — like, I come in, you fix my bike, I pay, and I leave.

But we encourage people to hang out. Kolby will work on someone’s bike and explain what he’s doing. Or if someone needs help fixing a flat, we’ll walk them through it and talk them through the process.

Same thing with group rides — I lead all of our rides, and I talk to people while we’re out there. I ask them what kinds of events they want to see, or where we should ride next week — things like that.

So I think just being the owners of the space and being deeply involved in every part of the shop helps us stay connected to the people who come here. Because honestly, we literally can’t exist without them.

We try to go out of our way to stay connected — to get to know them, the kind of riding they do, who they are, their friends, their bikes, all of it.

S: Did leadership come naturally to you, or was it something you had to grow into — maybe even out of necessity?

A: It’s funny because I identify as introverted and not very people-facing. My natural tendency is not to be the one leading things. But I think, in a way, it does come kind of naturally to me. I think it’s a little bit of both — where, in getting into the roles I’ve taken on in the outdoor industry, I’ve kind of just had to put myself out there and do these things.

I was leading group rides as a beginner cyclist — literally googling how to lead a group ride, what sweeping means, and how to fix a flat. I’ve always been kind of a go-getter, where once I decide I want to do something, I set my mind to it. I love learning, so I’ll educate myself, find the resources, and equip myself the best I can.

And part of that is definitely battling imposter syndrome — wanting to make sure that if I’m going to do something, I know as much as possible. That’s what led me into taking on more leadership roles in these spaces.

I think by necessity, too. Because once I started doing it, there was a combination of people looking to me for support in those ways, and me feeling a sense of responsibility to keep creating the kinds of spaces I started.

It’s also hard for me to just hand things off — like letting someone else lead a group ride — because I really care about making sure our shop’s name is represented well.

I don’t always see myself as a leader in the traditional sense, but I do know that I have influence in my community — and that it can be impactful.

S: How do you balance guiding a community while making space for the quieter voices?

A: While studying for my master’s degree in UX and UI, we did a lot of work with data research and analytics. Something that always stuck with me is how, in data analysis, people often target the majority — but that usually means outliers are left out or unsupported.

I try to flip that idea: if we serve the minority or those considered outliers first, it doesn’t mean we won’t also be serving the majority. Prioritizing those voices often benefits everyone.

So when people with marginalized identities or those who don’t feel connected to the community speak up, I try to listen to them first. For example, if someone says, I want a ride that’s not necessarily at a training pace, but also not a super slow social pace, those kinds of requests don’t only apply to beginners or people on the fringe. A lot of folks — even those considered part of the majority — want the same thing.

It’s important to recognize that and find a balance. We try to diversify the types of events we offer so it's not all intro to bikepacking or party-paced social rides. Because there's this misconception that people who aren’t usually seen or heard in the cycling world aren’t capable of hanging with the majority. But really, they just haven’t been invited into those spaces.

S: How do others show up and support the kind of shop you’re building?

A: I think ultimately, coming to events and group rides when we have them, and buying stuff from our shop — those things really matter. I know there are days for small businesses when no one comes in and it’s a zero dollar day. And enough zero dollar days like that can make a business not exist anymore.

So even if you think, REI is next door and Treehouse is a mile away, and I just need a tube, even five dollars means so much more to us than it might elsewhere — no offense to REI.

I think it’s really important: if you want to support a small business, actually support it. Whether that’s coming to our events, buying stuff at the shop, telling your friends about us, leaving us a review, or sharing our posts on social media — there are so many ways to support. Every single one of those things helps us dramatically.

S: Looking ahead, what impact do you hope Treehouse Cyclery will have — both on the immediate community and the cycling space in general?

A: In our immediate community, we’re hoping to foster a space for younger and newer cyclists and support them in staying cyclists 15 years from now, you know? Help change that culture a little bit. Hopefully, in ten years, Boulder is a place where people move to and get excited because of how amazing our communities are — across all different parts of the cycling world.

On a larger scale, I think we want to keep showing that independent small bike shops are important and have a place in the industry. Since we’ve opened — over the last year and a half or two years — we’ve seen many small shops around the country closing down.

I think it’s important to keep supporting local businesses like these. Hopefully, us and all the other small shops doing cool and exciting things keep growing, and more shops like this open.

That way, even if the sport is slowing down or maybe dying in some ways, at least the small, independent side can keep growing.

S: The community you’ve built seems to lean more into playfulness over pure performance — how do you personally stay connected to that playfulness when you ride?

A: Most of the time on my bike is spent leading or supporting group rides. So when I’m by myself, that’s when I let myself actually do whatever I want — whether that’s being playful or doing something really hard, whatever kind of riding I feel like.

I try to find time for myself every week to ride just for me. Even though this is my job, I don’t want to end up hating it, and I know that’s really easy to do. When we first opened the shop, a lot of other bike shop owners told us we should just throw our bikes away because we’d never ride them again.

We definitely didn’t want that to happen, and we promised to try as hard as we can to keep riding. Even during something like Flag Week, what we’re doing right now isn’t exactly fun — I don’t love climbing 2,500 feet over eight miles every single day. But it’s been fun in its own way, because every day after work, we get to ride our bikes.

Even if it’s pouring rain, just having that little bit of excitement and joy wherever we can find it feels really good.

S: Do you see cycling as more than physical movement — something that connects us socially and emotionally?

A: I’ve never really thought of it as exercise. I mean, I know it is exercise, but it’s never about needing to ride to get fitter — it’s more about just feeling the need to move my body.

I see it more as movement and time outside, rather than something structured like, I have to go to the gym three times a week.

For me, it’s mostly just about having fun.

S: I know you like to explore your physical and mental limits too — what events do you have on your calendar?

A: I’m going to do the North South Colorado — a race from Fort Collins to Trinidad in a month, and then hopefully make it out to Washington for the Dark Divide 300, a 300-mile bike-packing route from Olympia to Portland.

I spent a lot of the beginning of my cycling career biking everywhere but Colorado, so I’ve been really excited — especially since opening the shop — to spend more time here and actually ride in the place that I live. That’s why I’m super stoked about North South. There are a ton of other bikepacking races I could do, but I mostly just want to ride in Colorado.

S: In a race setting, how do you stay connected to that playful side of riding?

A: So in terms of bikepack racing, I’ve only done the Westfjords Way in Iceland. And I’ve been thinking a lot about that experience specifically, because Iceland was really great — but it also sucked a lot.

It really wasn’t that fun for me. I wanted it to be fun, but I honestly hated a lot of it. I was like, “This is stupid. I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

Since then, I’ve done a ton of gravel races, and I’ve found ways to actually enjoy them. I used to push myself and think, if I’m going to do it, I should try really hard at these things.

But the last few I’ve done, I’m like, I’m just going to do the 20-mile ride, because that’s what’s fun for me. I still get to ride my bike and hang out with people.

So I’m trying to bring that same mindset into bikepack racing. I’m joking that I’m going for the ‘dead fucking last’ record, because my friend got last place last year and did it in seven days. I was like, cool, I’ll do it in eight.

I just want to go out and each day ask: How am I feeling? How far do I want to ride? Is there anything I want to get out of the day? And stick to that, instead of being super intense about needing to ride 160 miles a day or skipping every break.

I want to have more empathy for myself — to just do what I want to do out there. I think that’ll make it more fun. Like, if one day I don’t want to go 170 miles, but the next day I just want to ride 20 miles and find a hotel and sleep all day — I’ll do that too.

I think not putting pressure on myself is what helps me actually have fun.

S: Why do you choose the race setting over a bikepacking one? What is it about racing that appeals to you?

A: I'm not a competitive person at all, so it’s not really the competing part. I think I just like all the stuff that goes around it. Sure, I could go do the North-South route literally anytime I want. But, I love the community piece and idea that there’s going to be a group of us out there, doing it over the same stretch of time — and that we’re all doing it together, even though we’re not together. That community piece sounds really nice to me, and seems kinda of fun.

I ran Division I track, and I liked competing, but I wasn’t competitive. I still love that kind of environment. It gives me something to work toward and be excited about and that’s just how my brain works better. If I can do something anytime, it’s harder for me to get motivated to just say, I’m going to take four or five days and go ride this route.

I like having something to work toward, something I can check off my to-do list, even if it’s for fun. It’s just harder to do that totally on my own timeline.

And I mostly bike by myself. I don’t have a lot of women to bikepack with — it’s mostly just guys, who I love and they are very sweet — but even if I took all of them with me to go ride something, it would still end up being me out there by myself.

I like the idea of intentionally deciding, I’m going to do this alone, but also knowing that we’re all kind of out there together.

Building Community, Spaces for Connection, Inclusive Leadership & Togetherness — Images taken during the build-out of Treehouse Cyclery in Boulder, Colorado (2024).