Yes, there is an alpha bike, and you know it. You can tell me all day that your bikes each serve a different purpose and you love each of them equally. You cannot, however, tell me that each of your bikes shares equal power and status like idealistic trustafarians in some dirty hippie commune. Your bikes, no matter how much you want them to, will never join pedals around a bonfire and sing kum-ba-ya.
If you have more than one bike, you have an Alpha Bike. This bike, henceforth known as “Alpha,” not only holds the leash of the other bikes in your harem, but it also serves as the hegemonic “normal” in your bikes’ world; that is, anything you say or do in response to your bikes come from the point of view of Alpha, probably without your realizing it.
For example, in my bikocracy, my Scott Plasma is the clear Alpha. If I need to ride, he makes the decision. Either we’re out on the road together, or he sends me out with another bike. How do I know it’s not just me riding my road or mountain bike just because I want to? Because I always have to reason that I’m riding the road bike because (insert excuse why I’m not risking stress, damage, or dirt to Plasma here). Sure, it often coincides with my wanting to ride the CAAD 10, or the Anthem, but just as often it’s all kinds of “oh, I only have time to ride the crappily paved roads of West Asheville, so that’s why I’m not riding the Plasma.”
Can you see the difference? Can you now recognize this pattern of bike behavior in your own life? Which bike is your prima dona?