I started a pedicab business in Nantucket called NanTukTuk. It hasn’t been easy, but it saved me from a corporate job.

This story is based on a conversation with Michael Gormley, the 26-year-old founder and CTO (chief tricycle officer) of NanTukTuk. Business Insider has verified his identity. This story has been edited for length and clarity.

I had an entry-level corporate sales job lined up postgrad in 2021.

I wasn’t ready for that. I couldn’t grasp living the 9-to-5 lifestyle.

I had a cousin who lived on Nantucket, and he told me to check it out. I did, and it was the best summer of my life. I worked at a restaurant with a bunch of people from Croatia and became super good friends with them. I visited them in Croatia for what was supposed to be 10 days, and ended up traveling through different parts of the world for the next two years.

10 months of that time, I owned a little market in Sri Lanka, and my market relied on the tuk-tuks to bring customers to us. I’d already thought pedicabs would be a fun idea after going to school in Charleston, where they’re popular.

I knew that they would work in Nantucket — and I figured that’d be a good way to keep the Peter Pan plan going a little longer and push off growing up.

The summer I started NanTukTuk was the worst of my life

Nantucket is a traditional New England town, and people were not open to a new business. It took about 10 months and a dozen advisory committee hearings to get approval for the business.

After I got approval in July, I started the business, and it was the worst summer of my life. Everything was barely working out. I was so close to just collapsing, and I perpetually felt like I was on the brink of disaster.

I bought two pedicabs at about $3,500 each, which was a devastating blow for me at the time. I had a great first few days of business, but then the novelty wore off and people stopped giving me money. The town prohibited me from charging rides the first season, so people could only give me gratuity, and I had a handful of people who just weren’t paying me.

I thought I could figure out housing, but it’s like $6,000 to rent a comfortable spot here. So I spent the first few weeks living out of the bed of my truck in a remote beach parking lot because it’s illegal to camp here.

I was miserable. I would be up until 2:00 a.m. working and then the sun would rise early in the morning, and I would be in the bed of my truck with the black tarp that rolls over the bed. It was so hot.

I was making enough, but not that much, and I was like, all right, maybe a 9-to-5 isn’t such a bad idea after all.

The business started to turn around

The next season, we ended up getting two more tuk-tuks and hired three people.

I ended up meeting people who helped me out and gave me close to free and discounted housing for periods of time over the last couple of years.

Blue Flag Capital, a private equity firm, helped me store the tuk tuks and fed me business through their hotel and restaurant guests. If it weren’t for them, I don’t know if I would have made it.

I created a spreadsheet of every wedding planner and venue on Nantucket and contacted all of them. I also gave a flyer and pamphlet to every hotel concierge and put door hangers on every house in the wealthiest neighborhood of Nantucket.

It took time and credibility to prove to everyone that we weren’t scamming them — and a handful of influential people in the community to start posting and talking about it.

In New York City, it gets confusing for customers because there are different rates per person or per block. I always confirm the final price with the rider before they get on. I tell my employees to charge in the $10 to $50 range and be very upfront with the cost so that no one is offended.

This year, I’m signing more contracts. Some are worth $100 and others are worth thousands. I made $10,000 off an advertising contract last year.

I usually make about $1,000 for events, but I have a good amount of events priced between $2,500 and $4,000. It depends on how many tuk-tuks are booked and for how many hours. Ideally, people book out all four. We can only fit two to three people in the tuk-tuk, and we have a specific zone that we can operate in.

At weddings or other events, tuk-tuks ride the couple around the town and deliver people to the main venue. It’s useful for people with mobility impairments or women wearing heels. We also work with hotels and restaurants to provide transportation to guests. Kids love riding in the tuk-tuks, and sometimes, parents will pay us to take them on loops.

I don’t plan on doing it forever

I love collaborating with other small businesses. I also don’t need to get approval for anything from a boss, and I never get tired of it. It’s just intoxicating. There’s always the thought of how else I can get revenue streaming. Or, what can we change about this to make it better?

In the long term, there’s only so much money that can be made from it. I also work seven days a week, and it consumes me. I joke that I don’t have a boss, but I have no freedom. I don’t mind that, but in the long term, I want to do it for something with higher potential.

I think after one or two more seasons, it will have served its purpose, where I’ve learned a ton, worked a ton, and it could help inform me on my next steps.

At the end of the day, NanTukTuk allowed me to network tremendously and avoid the corporate world, and I’m forever in debt to it for that.

The post I started a pedicab business in Nantucket called NanTukTuk. It hasn’t been easy, but it saved me from a corporate job. appeared first on Business Insider.