Brian Riley didn’t set out to start a bike company. Two decades ago his grandfather flipped over his handlebars after over-applying a front brake in traffic, a crash that left the family shaken. In college, Riley and classmates developed a new brake, SureStop, that engages front and rear brakes together with one lever to reduce the risk of flipping forward. “When you drive a car, you step on one pedal and your brakes just work,” Riley says. “That’s SureStop for a bike.”
When Riley tried to sell the idea to manufacturers, he discovered most bike production was overseas. Iconic American brands are mostly made in China, and nearly all bicycles sold in the U.S. are imported. Determined to make bikes in America, Riley opened Guardian Bike Company in Seymour, Indiana, and later asked the Trump administration to extend steel and aluminum tariffs to foreign-made bikes and parts — a move that would blunt the price advantage of imports and could test the administration’s use of tariffs to encourage domestic manufacturing. The proposal has drawn stiff opposition from bicycle retailers and importers.
Location and manufacturing choices
After studying Chinese factories, Riley chose Seymour, a town of about 22,000 between Indianapolis and Louisville. The town’s logistics links, nearby steel mills, and a workforce steeped in manufacturing made it attractive. “Just being in a small town like this makes a huge difference on the community,” Riley says. Factories account for roughly 30% of jobs in Seymour, nearly quadruple the national average.
Guardian began by assembling bikes in Indiana from imported parts, but last year the company moved to full “Made in the USA” production. The operation now occupies several buildings in an industrial park. To compete with low-cost Chinese makers, Guardian invested in automation — high-powered fiber lasers and welding robots handle the heavy, repetitive work while a small number of skilled workers operate the equipment and do final assembly. Riley points to a $1.2 million laser that cuts steel quickly; the company pays starter wages around $22 an hour plus benefits, but relatively few workers can produce hundreds of frames a day with robotic help. Guardian sources steel tubing from a mill in Columbus, Indiana, about 20 miles away, keeping a short supply chain and the ability to respond quickly to demand changes — for example, a sudden spike in demand for pink bikes after a Barbie movie.
Price, scale and a tariff request
Guardian focuses mainly on children’s bikes and sells largely direct-to-consumer via its website, showcasing safety features like SureStop and avoiding retailer markups. Prices range from about $150 to $400, roughly two to three times the cost of many imported bikes sold at big-box stores. A nearby Walmart was selling imported kids’ bikes for as little as $88.
Riley asked the administration last fall to apply the 50% steel and aluminum tariffs to metal used in bikes and bike parts made overseas. He says any trade policy that encourages U.S. manufacturing would be helpful and that tariffs would be “tailwinds” for companies trying to produce domestically. Imported bikes already face various tariffs depending on origin, but a blanket levy similar to the steel and aluminum tariffs would raise the cost of imports across the board. The administration may be receptive now that the Supreme Court has limited other import-tax approaches.
Pushback from retailers and industry groups
More than 2,500 bicycle retailers and importers wrote to the Commerce Department opposing the proposed tariff expansion, warning that higher import costs would drive up retail prices and put bikes out of reach for families on tight budgets. “It’s very price sensitive,” says Matt Moore, policy counsel for People for Bikes, a trade group representing many retailers and importers. He warns that if parents choose cheaper items over bicycles, fewer kids learn to ride, potentially shrinking the future market for riders and bicycle participation.
Opponents also question the national security rationale Riley used to qualify his petition, arguing children’s bikes don’t merit protection on those grounds. Riley counters that the point is not the bikes themselves but preserving onshore manufacturing know-how so the industrial base exists if national needs suddenly require it.
Guardian’s growth and local impact
Guardian’s final assembly occupies a former ironing-board factory where dozens of workers mount tires, brakes and handlebars and perform quality checks. The company employs about 250 people and expects to sell roughly half a million bikes this year. Repeat customers are common as children move up in size or younger siblings need bikes. Positive reviews from outlets like Wirecutter help sales, though some online comments are skeptical of SureStop.
The factory has generated local spinoff work: a Seymour plastics shop now makes Guardian’s training wheels. Riley says the company has revitalized parts of town, bringing jobs, filling buildings and increasing activity at local businesses. He hopes tariffs would accelerate growth and inspire other firms to manufacture bikes domestically, but maintains Guardian does not strictly depend on additional duties to survive.
The broader question is whether Guardian needs tariff “training wheels” to expand U.S. bike manufacturing, or whether it can stay upright and continue growing on its own as it seeks to prove that American-made children’s bikes can compete.