Buyers can choose everything from components ($3,000 carbon-fiber wheels are an option) to frame material—custom-mitered titanium or carbon-fiber tubes, for instance. They tend to get crazy with paint schemes: Matching the bike’s color to a favorite necktie or pair of Ferragamo loafers isn’t uncommon. Some clients request iridescent tones that change color in different light. One custom-ride buyer had a profane word and three exclamation points painted in red letters across the top of his white bike.

For all this customization, of course, you have to wait. Since everything is done by hand—from custom-mitering carbon-fiber tubes to applying paint—the time from fit to delivery can be anywhere from two months to a year, if an order is particularly complex. What’s complex? Try the buyer who wanted his bike painted the same blue that glistens on his Aston Martin Vanquish—not merely the same hue, but the identical paint. He also wanted real gold-leaf decals and a gilded crest head badge on the front of the bike. Some buyers even want custom anodized screws or copper plating.

Tom Rodi, who handles sales and marketing for Parlee, which will make about 300 frames this year, says his buyers are exacting. “They’re perfectionists,” he says. “When they spend that much, their expectations are very high.”

David J. Carlins is a typical bespoke client. He has flown in from Chicago just to be fit for a custom bike at Signature Cycles. For this two-hour session, he’ll pay $375—not including any gear.

Carlins, president of Magellan Development Group, a real estate firm, makes more than $1 million a year, but outside of the office, his passion is racing in triathlons. He qualified for this year’s Ironman World Championship in Hawaii, so he’s in outstanding shape, but he’s not perfectly mated to a bike. When he rides his current set of wheels—an adapted road bike—it’s a bit like Yo-Yo Ma fiddling on a child’s cello; sure, he can make it sound better than a 12-year-old could, but ultimately he’s limited by the instrument.

Before the fitting begins, Levine fires a barrage of questions at Carlins. “This is part psychiatry, part coaching,” Levine says. “People don’t come to buy the product. They come for the benefit that the product can provide. So I need to know their goals and aspirations, not just their physical dimensions and limitations.”

Next comes time on a Size Cycle, a stationary bike that’s adjustable in virtually every direction and is hooked up to a computer screen that displays everything from the evenness of Carlins’ left-leg stroke-rate cadence to the power produced by his right leg. While Carlins rides, he asks questions: What sort of pedals create the best power transfer? He also answers questions, since Levine wants to know whether Carlins is comfortable in the increasingly aerodynamic position being created for him. By the end of the session, Levine believes that he has found the fastest, most comfortable position for Carlins and that he can have a bike built to those specifications. Later that afternoon, Levine will send Carlins’ measurements to a bikemaker, and he’ll follow up throughout the frame’s construction. Only after the bike is built will Carlins face his toughest choice: just how fancy to get with the paint job.

Carlins, who is low-key, doesn’t exactly jump up and shout after his fitting. Instead, he says something more revealing: “I was more comfortable in that position than I’ve ever been on a bike. It was definitely worth the trip.”