One of the worst snowstorms in a decade outside, so.....

Hi, I was born in Wisconsin, USA in 1983. Hand brazed by a bunch of hippies.. err the world’s finest bicycle craftsmen. In my youth the other bikes called me arrogant, but ask any Trek and they will tell you, it’s not arrogance if it’s justified. Besides, I was one of the first 520’s ever built!

I was sold through a bike shop in Colorado, though my memory is faint in spots, Like any good 520, I’ve been around. I somehow ended up far from my birthplace in the Midwest, and far from the mountains of Colorado on a college campus in Pennsylvania and for a time, left out in the elements.

For a good while, I thought my road was travelled, but I felt secure in that my relations had touched nearly every corner of the globe, that generations of 520’s Starting with my siblings from the class of ’83 had followed me from my birthplace to carry their owners across the earth. Though they had more braze on’s than I ever had, they were 520’s like I was.

But my story did not end there in a pile of parts in Pennsylvania, I changed owners a few times, almost tried my wheels at cyclocross, then was rescued again, by now I was sure showing my age, tattered and bashed, a rusted frameset, but even a rusted steel Trek is still a Steel Trek. I was just starting to get used to my retirement there, as I regaled the other bicycles will tales of my greatness,(If they wanted to hear about it or not), when I was boxed up for the first time since my youth and shipped away.

Smell that air! I was back in the Midwest! Cool! Once I was out of the box I hung out for awhile, (On a hook) Until this new guy needed something with fender space for a rainy group ride, I got built back up in one night and put back on the road, sporting fenders and a Blackburn rack. Cold, nasty day, PERFECT! Dude, I was back in my element! I wanted to do the full hundred, but my new owner crapped out on my and we only made the metric. But hey, it was nice to feel the road again, even rolling on a borrowed wheelset and a steel seatpost. I spent the winter back on my hook, telling my new housemates all about my family history.

More bikes have joined the group, but I’m usually the only American, except for a few Schwinns that pop in and out, usually heading out to new owners. For awhile it looked like I was staying in retirement, like that rainy ride was my going away party, but parts started showing up that looked like things I could use. Even my old wheelset showed back up, some nice Suntour Derailleur’s I’d like to have and some bar end shifters are sitting over on a workbench. One cold day my Fork was pulled off, my headset tapped out, and my Decal carefully peeled away. Then I had the most horrific experience of my life, I was sandblasted! But once that was over, my rust was cured, and I was quickly cleaned and given a coat of primer, then it was into a funny tent. PAINT!!

Now I’m almost ready to go again, I got my headset back, parts are all over the place. I feel like I’m ready for my fifth or sixth career, I keep my new foreign roommates entertained,(They all talk funny!) And my new buddy Carlton keeps telling me that every place a Trek has been, a Raleigh was there first. I think he’s full of it, but hey.

I look better than this now, my weelset back on, and my fork re-atached!