ÃÛÌÒÓ°Ïñ

Carolyn Eaton, ‘08, graduated from ÃÛÌÒÓ°Ïñ in the middle of a global financial crisis only to find herself dealing with a personal financial crisis.

The housing bubble was bursting, resulting in a worldwide economic crisis and the Great Recession, the most ruinous meltdown since the Great Depression. Layoffs were being announced almost daily, unemployment rates shot up and newly minted college grads like Eaton were entering a hostile job market.

With a week to come up with rent, she started perusing Craigslist and struck upon an ad.

“There’s a job at a bike shop,” she thought to herself.

Growing up in South ÃÛÌÒÓ°Ïñ, her parents didn’t own a car for most of her childhood, which meant the family got around town by bus and bicycle. While she attended Garfield High School, her older brother, Sean, worked as a bicycle messenger, further exposing her to the culture of ÃÛÌÒÓ°Ïñ cycling.

Eaton paused on the Craigslist ad and thought, “I know a little bit about bikes.”
 
When it came time to think about college, she decided to attend SU at the urging of her mother, alumna Patricia Eaton, ’03.

“I knew I was going to do better in a smaller class environment,” she says. “And then the convenience of living on Capitol Hill, not having to move apartments or change my lifestyle a whole lot.

”With a degree in environmental studies, Eaton had become interested in restoring historic houses and was working odd carpentry jobs. She imagined a career melding her interests, but with the state of the world it wasn’t the time for imagining.
 
To make ends meet, she figured she could land a job to keep the eviction notices from her doorstep, then keep looking for jobs in her chosen field as the housing crunch subsided and the economy improved.

So, she applied for an opening at Montlake Bicycle Shop, a venerable outpost in the ÃÛÌÒÓ°Ïñ bicycle community, founded in 1980 by Neil Wechsler and tucked in the residential neighborhood between Capitol Hill and the University District. The walls of the shop are hidden behind rows of bicycles of all models and sizes in a rainbow of colors. Bikes are marshaled in rows on the floor and even more hang upside down from the ceiling, creating the feel of a temple to self-propulsion. 

At first, Eaton was hired as an office assistant. “I think they were like, ‘Oh, you ride a bike, you know a little bit about bikes, that’s helpful, but really we need help in the office,’”she says.

“And then very quickly I just ended up on the sales floor helping out.”

Eaton found she liked the work and instead of looking elsewhere, enjoyed the ride. Over the years she took on additional administrative duties while splitting her time assisting customers, though she found she was spending more time on the business side of things, eventually becoming a manager.

In 2019, after nearly four decades owning the shop, Wechsler decided to split the company into four shares among him and three longtime managers, with one share going to Eaton.

In a classic story of an employee working their way up to president and co-owner, Eaton found her way into a career almost by chance.

That career involved learning bookkeeping, accounting and payroll, which she counts as a good growing experience. The shop persevered through COVID, pivoted toward e-bikes in addition to strengthening its stock and service of traditional, pedal-powered options. Looking toward the future, she hopes to travel more with her partner, Staci, when the couple isn’t updating their home on Capitol Hill.

What guides her business sense are the Jesuit values she learned while a student at SU. For Eaton, the objective isn’t to sell more or make more money, but to help others connect with the joy that comes from riding bikes.

“I think my experience at SU shapes my priorities and morals of how I run a business,” she says. “It’s not about becoming the biggest and doing the most sales but doing a really thorough job and serving your community and customer.”