Get Your 1965 Collegiate Now!

Did you get a Schwinn Collegiate in 1965?

If you didn't, you now have a chance to acquire it. Well, sort of.  And not at the 1965 price.

Of course, the new "1965 Collegiate" won't be an exact replica of the original because none of the parts that came with it are made anymore.

The new "1965 Collegiate" will be offered by Detroit Bikes. Like the company's other offerings, its frame will be made in their Detroit workshop.  In a way, it's fitting, as the old Collegiates were made in another once-thriving industrial city:  Chicago, the site of Schwinn's old factory.  

In another odd parallel, both Detroit Bikes and Schwinn were founded by immigrants:  DB founder Zac Pashak came from Canada; Ignaz Schwinn was born in Germany.  And, while many auto-industry pioneers, including Henry Ford, started off as bicycle builders, designers or mechanics, the current Master Builder at Detroit Bikes is Henry Ford II.  No, they're not related, but it's quite the coincidence, isn't it?

The new "Schwinn Collegiate"

Detroit Bikes is offering the new "Collegiate" to commemorate the 125th anniversary of Schwinn, once the most iconic American bike marque.  While the brand still survives, Schwinn is owned by a conglomerate; its bikes are made in China and sold in big-box stores rather than the network of independent bike dealers that supplied Schwinns to the public for decades.

That dealer network gave Schwinn a platform for re-making the American (and, by extension, worldwide) bicycle market during the 1960s and 1970s.  What made the Bike Boom the Bike Boom was the re-discovery of the bicycle by people who were old enough to drive.  Schwinn helped to stoke this boom by being among the first American manufacturers to offer "lightweight" bikes for adults.  "Lightweight" is a relative term:  the new Collegiates, Varsities and Continentals were tanks, but they had the diamond-style frame of racing bikes and something most Americans had never before seen: a derailleur.  That last feature made possible a wider range of gearing than internally-geared hubs and, even in their crude state (at least, compared to today's offerings), were more efficient. That made cycling more pleasurable--and, in many cases, practical--for adults who hadn't been astride two wheels since the day they got their driver's licences.

The Collegiate was a "gateway" bike: Schwinn offered it as a "budget lightweight."  Essentially, it was a Varsity with 5 speeds instead of 10 (one front chainring instead of two) and a mattress saddle.  It was offered with drop or upright bars on the men's model (upright only on the women's bike). In the days just before the Bike Boom--which would include 1965--many young people bought this bike to, not surprisingly, get around on campus and take rides in local parks.

Those bikes, sold in Schwinn's dealer network, were all part of a strategy envisioned by F.W. Schwinn, the founder's son, who believed that an adult bicycle market could be developed in the United States.  His idea succeeded for a time, then backfired:  People who rode those Collegiates, Varsities and Continentals would discover imported derailleur-equipped bikes that were much lighter than any Schwinn (besides the Paramount, which was made in limited quantities).

In another parallel with Schwinn, Detroit Bikes is helping to re-shape the future of cycling in the United States.  Ford II and Pashak seem to recognize that for the bicycle to become an integral part of American transportation and recreation, their industry cannot continue its reliance on a few buyers of high-end racing or mountain bikes, or even imitations of those bikes. Such bikes are simply not practical for the ways most people ride, and the ways most would-be cyclists want to ride. Instead, Detroit is concentrating on building bikes that are practical as urban transportation as well as for other everyday uses.

So, in another sense, it's not such a surprise that Detroit Bikes would re-make an iconic Schwinn:  Both companies, after all, have tried to re-shape the ways people see and use bicycles.  Schwinn succeeded for a time and then became a victim of that success (and some managerial missteps).  Detroit Bikes, on the other hand, has the opportunity for more lasting success. 


(I would love to see the new "Collegiate" in a color Schwinn offered in 1965:  Violet.)

A Semi-Sweet Goodbye

I have some rather sad news to report.

No, I didn't crash or get diagnosed with some terrible disease.  Rather, it's about something I did somewhat reluctantly.

You see, I sold the Schwinn Collegiate I'd mentioned in a few previous posts.  I actually liked it quite a bit:  While it was heavy and didn't have the nimblest handling (Then again, I can say those things about myself!), it was surprisingly quick when I got it up to speed.  Plus, it did have a certain charm, some of which had to do with the color.

But it was too small for me.  Perhaps I could have gotten a longer seatpost and stem for it, but either one, I felt, would have turned it into a Frankenbike:  Bikes like the Collegiate simply aren't meant to have, and don't look right, with them.

At least the young woman who bought it from me was truly happy to find it.  She lives in Williamsburg and, she told me, another bike "just like" it was stolen from her.  Actually, she said, it was a Collegiate "from around the same time", in a different color.

As she is about 5'5" (about 165 cm), the bike is just the right size for her.  When she test rode it, she looked very comfortable and confident on it.  Plus, she was wearing a sort of "Mad Men" outfit, which somehow looked right.

She was so happy to find the bike that she didn't quibble about the price.  Even if she had, I would been satisfied with selling it to her, as I knew the bike was going "to a good home". That, at least, balances some of the sadness I felt about letting it go.

Her Long-Lost Brother

It's probably a good thing I haven't named the Schwinn Collegiate I got just before Christmas.  Something happened that might affect the way she sees herself--which, in turn, could influence the name I choose for her.

You see, as she was made in 1966 in Schwinn's old Chicago factory, she has lots and lots of siblings she's never met.  Some of them may be lost to this world.  But it probably had been years, or even decades, since she'd met any of them.

Did you notice the verb tense shift in the last sentence of the previous paragraph?  There's a reason for it:

I asked, and she believes that this Collegiate in the same, similarly-faded, shade of violet she wears, is her older brother. 

There's a good reason for that:  According to the Schwinn Lightweight Data Book, the men's (diamond-frame) version of the Collegiate came with its shifter on the top tube in 1965.

Like most Schwinn shifters and derailleurs of the time, it was made by Huret and rebranded as "Schwinn Sprint".

I apologize for the poor angles of these photos:  I took them while standing between the bike and a parked car!

Anyway, the placement of the shift lever posed some interesting problems in routing cable:

There are also other things that make this bike specific to its time period.  Take a look at the engraving on the rear, which Weinmann made for Schwinn in Switzerland:

I mean, who does anything like that anymore?

One other interesting feature--albeit one that doesn't affect the bike's functionality--is the chrome "cap" on the front fork:

My Collegiate doesn't have it.  Those caps were removable, so it may be that someone lost it after overhauling the headset.  Or, the fork may have been a replacement, though it doesn't seem likely as the paint on the fork is chipped and faded in much the same way as the frame.

From what I could see, only three parts of "Big Brother" had been replaced:  the seat (which had a Huffy emblem on it) and the rear wheel (although the five-speed freewheel looked like it could have been the original) and the rear tire.

On the other hand, my Collegiate has original Schwinn parts from that period, though the rear wheel has a Bendix coaster brake and Schwinn rim (which would have been original equipment on the "Speedster," which had the same frame and wheel size as the Collegiate.  

It's a good thing I wasn't in a hurry when I spotted my Collegiate's long-lost brother.  As you can imagine,they had a lot to talk about!

Lightweight With A Straight Face

In my post "Beauty Among The Ruins", you may have noticed a bike I haven't previously mentioned or shown on this blog.

It's a 1966 Schwinn Collegiate.  So what was it doing in that post?

You guessed it--I now own the bike.

This bike comes with a Bendix coaster brake.  Now, if you know anything about Schwinns from that period, you'd know that is unusual.

You see, Collegiates came as three-speeds (with a Sturmey Archer hub) or five-speeds (with a Schwinn-approved rear derailleur, which was a rebadged Huret Allvit).  In 1966, nearly all derailleur-equipped bicycles came with downtube shifters.  That is the reason for the boss on the downtube--which can be used only with Huret shifters.

At some point, someone turned it into a single-speed.  Interestingly, the wheel is what would have been stock on the Schwinn Breeze, which was, in essence, a Collegiate with a single-speed coaster brake.

It even has the chainguard!  And, in those days, Schwinn welded on fittings for accessories like chainguards--as well as cable guides (which are found on this bike), shifter bosses--and kickstands!

The bike is a tank.  I'd forgotten how heavy these Schwinn "lightweight"  models were.  Even at that time, I still don't understand how Schwinn could have called this--or almost any bike in their lineup save for the Paramount or Superior--"lightweight" with a straight face.  This Collegiate must weigh at least twice as much as my heaviest Mercian!

But I think I'm going to keep it for local errands or as a loaner. I'm probably going to put a basket on it.  And I'll definitely change the seat: It's something I'd never ride, and it's not the original, or anything like it.

I didn't pay much for it.  And, if you've been reading this blog, you know the answer to this question:  Would I turn down a bike with a color like that?

It's a bit small for me. But at least there was enough seat post to get something like a fit.  If I keep those bars (the originals), I might go for a stem with a longer extension.  And I'll need to change the tires:  The current ones are dry and cracking.  But I don't want to change much else: This bike is made to take a beating.  And, although I don't intend to do a perfect 1966-style restoration on it, I don't plan on turning it into a Frankenbike, either.