About US

Speed Shop Aptos was founded in 2021 as a service only shop located at the base of Nisene Marks and in the heart of some of the finest riding available in the world. Lawrence Saiyo, owner and mechanic, has been working in the cycling industry for nearly 14 years as a professional mechanic helping run, manage and build service departments around the west. Riding and racing mountain bikes of all discipline since his youth - he also comes from working for Fox Factory, Inc  for several years with their SSG testing team where he became acutely familiar with suspension, often working with engineers and the test lab to influence design change and provide feedback for future and current designs, while also having a key role in their Field Test program. With this and previous experience he has a service focused shop that is known for high-end work including factory-level suspension service, wheel builds, custom builds and other unique projects for the most discerning riders. From road and gravel to MTB, we do it all.

It all started when…

I have a small snippet of my memory of learning how to ride a bike. I have two older brothers, and the job of the little brother is to always play catch up as to not be left behind. The last person to the top of the hill, or the end of the rain tracks by the levee to catch crawdads doesn’t get to catch their breath. The last one in for snacks doesn’t get a treat, or at least not the good ones. So you do your best to keep up as not get stranded, lost, or left out. But through the struggle you still learn to look up to your older siblings. When I got my first bike, my parents took me into the garage where a bike with training wheels waited. It was a big day. My older brothers were already out in the street ripping around the neighborhood cul-de-sac with all the other neighbor kids. They had already graduated from their training wheels, so they could ride faster and turn easier. We had a short gently sloping driveway in a suburb somewhere south of Sacramento. I was watching by brothers ride up the driveway, turn around and coast back down, dropping down the sidewalk egress into the road with speed. I remember wanting that feeling of speed and freedom. An insatiable urge unknown to me, but clearly visible by the shit-eating grins on their faces. The feeling of getting left behind washed over me, feeling isolated from my brothers. Child FOMO, if you will. Whatever my little kid brain was thinking, it figured the training wheels were the thing that were going to keep me from my joy. I wanted to be just like them.

A fit with one of my parents ensued - the training wheels HAD to come off. After much deliberation (or whatever reasoning you can do with a teary 5 year old) I guess they figured they’d throw me to the wolves and let the situation run its course with more band-aids involved than initially intended. I got on the bike, was pushed down the driveway, and boom. I coasted, probably wobbly, down from the garage to the sloped concrete driveway, passed the japanese maple to the end of the concrete slab, across the sidewalk, down the curb egress, and into the road. Somewhere between the top of the driveway and the curb there was that raw moment of speed and freedom I wanted so badly a taste of. A feeling that humankind has been chasing for millenia. Flight. Wind in your hair, tears in your eyes, your surroundings passing below and around you as you move through time and space. Mechanized movement. Unregulated speed. Unfortunately, It ended shortly as the mechanics of pedaling, braking and turning has not been accounted for until just before the moment I bumped into the curb and fell over. I think it was convincing enough for my parents that the training wheels never went back on the bike, and the rest is history.

Go Fast.

Take Chances.