Some Of My Old Commuter/Beater Bikes

I am both delighted and amused that Bike Boom-era ten-speeds are en vogue, at least with certain (mostly young and urban) segments of the population. 

Go to Bushwick, Brooklyn or any other enclave of the young and self-consciously hip (and bohemian poor) and you’ll find flocks of vinage Fujis, packs of old Peugeots, ranks of stalwart Raleighs and gaggles of Gitanes and other classic names promenading through plazas or chained to railings.

One reason is, of course, that such bikes are—as long as they haven’t been crashed, submerged in a deluge or otherwise abused—as good now as they were then.  While nobody would try to race those bikes, most of which had mild steel frames and cottered cranks, they offer rides that are reasonably quick yet comfortable.  The frames geometry, while maligned by racers and other performance-oriented riders, make the bikes versatile in ways that few contemporary bikes are.  That is the reason why so many have been converted to single- and fixed-gear urban cruisers.

What that means, of course, is that such bikes sell—especially in New York and other urban areas—for far more than they did a few years ago.  Even so, it’s often less expensive to buy such a bike, convert it and add racks, baskets or whatever else one likes, than it is to buy a new “urban” or “Dutch” (really, some marketer’s idea of “Dutch”) bike.

However, I can recall a time when Bike-Boom era ten-speeds could be had for a song, or even less.  As I recall, that time commenced around the mid-‘80’s, when mountain bikes became the machines of choice for the few (at least here in the US) bicycle commuters and “ride around the park every other Sunday” cyclists of the time.  Most people who bought ten-speeds in the ‘70’s and early ‘80’s rode them only for a short time before relegating them to garages, basements, barns and other “out of sight, out of mind” sites.  Eventually, they’d be sold in garage or estate sales, or even given away.  Some people used them in trade-ins for mountain (or, later, hybrid) bikes, so old ten-speeds could be had for very little money even from bike shops.  

For years—about a decade and a half, in fact—I used such bikes for commuters and “beaters”.  When I could, I rode them “as is”—of course, after inflating the tires, lubing the chains and such.  Usually, I changed the saddle and one or two other parts, and added a rear rack and fenders if the bike didn’t already have them.  As parts (usually wheels) broke down or wore out, I replaced them, sometimes with parts I had on hand or friendly shops allowed me to scavenge.  My ability to build wheels came in handy, as I could get discontinued models of rims cheaply and re-use the hubs that came with the bike, or get inexpensive replacements.

From the mid-‘80’s to the mid-‘90’s, bike theft was (I believe) even more rampant than it is now.  That was a further incentive to use such bikes, as losing one wasn’t as much of a financial (or emotional) blow as losing one of my better bikes would have been.  On average, I would say that I would ride one of those bikes about a year before losing it to a thief.

None of my photographs included any with any of those bikes in it.  However, I can recall, fairly accurately, each of those bikes and when I rode it.  I will list them below:  The year or decade in parentheses is the time, as best as I could determine, the bike was manufactured.  The year(s) on the right side indicate when I used the bikes.

Follis Tour de France (1960’s).  1985-87.  Stolen.

Raleigh Record (1960’s or early 1970’s). 1987-89. Stolen.

Jeunet (1960’s or early 1970’s). 1989-90. Crashed.

Peugeot U-09 (1978).  1990.  Stolen.

Motobecane Mirage (1960’s-early 1970's).  1990-92. Crashed.

Windsor (model unknown, 1970’s). 1995-97.  Loaned it to someone who later bought it.

Atala (model unknown, 1960’s). 1997-2001. Cracked after landing from a jump.

Motobecane Nobly (1970’s). 2001-2002. Was too big; sold it.

Bontrager Race Lite: Reminiscing About Heidi After A Blizzard

Well, the blizzard wasn't quite as bad here as it was on Long Island, or in Connecticut or Massachusetts.  Still, we had around 10 inches (25 cm) of snow in my neighborhood.

The ephemerally alabaster landscape surrounding me got me to thinking about Heidi.

I'm not referring to  Johanna Spyri's novel or the movies made from it.  I'm also not reminiscing about an Alpine romance from my youth.

Rather, I am going to talk about this Heidi:

That is what I named her.  She was one of the first of my bikes I named.  And, being a true mountain bike, the name fit her.

She was built around a Bontrager Race Lite frame. Before Trek bought him out, Keith Bontrager was building Race Lites in California from a combination of butted chrome-moly tubings.

The way he built those frames was all but unique: Instead of brazing frame tubes into lugs or fillets, he TIG-welded them with gussets.  While not as elegant as lugged or fillet-brazed frames, they were about as strong as any joints could be with thin chrome-moly steel tubing.  

That construction, and the frame's geometry, made for what might have been the sweetest ride anyone ever achieved on a hardtail steel mountain bike.  I never knew that a mountain bike could be so responsive until I mounted the Race Lite.  It had that resilient, even smooth, ride associated with some of the best steel road frames.

Keith Bontrager was a Physics major in college, and he said he never took aesthetics into consideration when designing or building his bikes or components.  Still, I always felt that Heidi was attractive, in a very rugged sort of way.  As much as I love purple and green, I liked her look even better after this makeover:

When I changed the fork, I changed the decals (Bontrager made replacements readily available) as well as some of the accessories.  The bike's original build, which you see in the first photo, consisted of parts that came off Heidi's predecessor:  a Jamis Dakota I upgraded as I wore out the original parts.

Mind you, I liked the Dakota and rode the heck out of it.  I might not have bought another mountain bike had I not gotten such a good deal on the Race Lite frame.  I gave the Dakota frame to someone who, I think, sold it for a "fix".

Anyway, I rode Heidi for five years.  Then, I drifted away from off-road riding and (reluctantly) sold her to someone out west who promised to ride her in the hills, where she belonged.  I simply could not bear the thought of turning her into a "beater" or utility bike.

A Reflection On My Treks Past

The bike I rode yesterday is the third Trek I've owned.

So, naturally, I got to thinking about the other two.

My first Trek was also the first "pure" racing bike I owned.  It might well have the tightest geometry of any road bike I've ever had.

The Trek 930 frame was made from 1977 until 1981.  Mine, I believe, was from 1979 and was made by master frame builder Tim Isaac, who began building frames for Trek that year.  

The 930--which should not be confused with a singletrack mountain bike bearing the same numerical designation, which Trek offered during the 1990's--was a classic lugged bike constructed from Columbus SL tubing.  (The larger sizes used the slightly thicker-walled Columbus SP.)  The one in the photo is the same size as mine was:  a 56cm seat tube.  But, like other racing bikes of the time, it came with a top tube of the same size as the seat tube.  That meant I had to ride with a short-reach stem, which made the steering less than optimal.

But the bike could accelerate, thanks to its short chainstays and wheelbase.  Being young and full of testosterone (and other substances), I could blast that thing on the flats.  Oddly, though, it didn't climb quite as well as some other bikes I've had, including ones with longer wheelbases and chainstays.

And there is one other difference between my 930 and the one in the photo:  Mine was black.  However, it had the same style of lettering you see in the image, and, unlike some other Treks, didn't have a contrasting-color band.  I equipped it with a mixture of racing components, a tan Ideale 2002 saddle and red handlebar wrap and cable housings.

Trek 930 with period components--except for the seat, of course.

I bought the frame while I was working at Highland Park Cyclery. If I remember correctly, I took that frame in lieu of three or four days' pay.  Later, I acquired my second Trek in a similar way.

That frame, a 1982 Trek 510, became the bike I would ride on my second European tour, which took me from Rome and up the coast of Italy into France.  If you have, or have ridden, a Rivendell Rambouillet, you have an idea of what that bike was like.  In the 1970's and 1980's, a number of bike companies offered bikes like it, which were called "sport tourers."  As you might have guessed, their geometry wasn't as tight as that of a racing bike, but it didn't have the "lumber wagon" dimensions of many touring bikes.  It's the sort of bike you could take on a quick training ride, or to which you could attach a rack and panniers for a short or light tour.  

The bike had a longer wheelbase and chainstays than the 930, although it was the same size.  Strangely, though, it had a top tube of the same length.  But I didn't mind riding a short-reach stem on the 510 as much as I did on the 930 because I often rode the 510 with a handlebar bag.

It was constructed of Ishiwata 022. I don't know whether Ishiwata tubing is still made, but a number of bike builders were building some nice frames from it.  Like Tange tubing, it was made in Japan and was a chrome-molybdenum steel.

My 510 came in the same colors--a burgundyish red with a silver/grey band on the seat post--at the one in the photo.  However, I didn't use yellow accessories:  My water bottle cage, like the rack I installed on it, was silver.  And I rode it with a tan leather saddle and brown leather handlebar tape--from Cannondale, I believe.

I actually got it after I'd "officially" stopped working at Highland Park.  However, Frank, the then-owner, let me work a couple of days to pay for it.  I think it was a "leftover" from the previous year that he wanted to move.

For about a year, I owned both the 930 and 510.  Then I sold the 930 so I could buy "the bike of the future."  But that's a story for another post.