You are much more slower than you stare?

Or you are much slower than you look?

I won't speak of what happened to me before I came to live where I am now. Well maybe a little, but its soooo embarrassing. I was born a proud racing machine, then I was made into something I wasn't, it was horrible. Those gaudy colors I was made to wear. But the worst, oh the absolute worst was being set aside and forgotten for all that time. And finally, traded away. Thank goodness, oh thank goodness it was to someone who saw what I was under what I had become.

He took me home, cleaned and cared for me. Gave me this shiney sparkly new color to wear too! Oh how beautiful I look now! And how smooth I ride with all these new fangled parts I get to wear. While I do miss my original parts sometimes, the faithful Campagnolo that I once wore proudly, I just have to look to my left a bit when I'm at home resting to see how wonderfully they look on she who now wears them. But I don't mind the new things, oh no, not at all. So smooth, but so fancy at the same time. I like showing it off. So many people stop and look, just in awe. I know he likes it too, and of course I do!

Even though I have to share his affections with three others, all as tenderly and carefully cared for as I am, I know that it's me he thinks about most often.

I believe the correct translation is: "You are much slower than you appear" Am I close Marty?

"Dude, seriously. Give me a freaking break already. You've got another "friend" to go to work with, take her. I'm tired and I'm calling in today. Oh, and that flat tire the other day? HAH, I did that myself!

And learn how to build a wheel already. I'm sick of these wobbly things you force me to deal with. And you've got ALL those parts you've been promising to give to me but they just sit there in the corner gathering dust. I'm starting to doubt your sincerity to keep me as a meaningful part of your life. We've been doing the same routine day in and day out for over a year now... Where is this relationship heading? At this point I would be relieved if you would bring one of those younger girls home. At least I could have a day off from your horribly smelly shoes.

...

Wait, is that... is that... Paint stripper?!? Ok, ok, just calm down man. No need to be hasty. I was just saying... No, I mean, yeah I can wait for the new parts. Just don't go and do anything rash. The touch-up pen will be just fine, I like it. Really.

Crap. That was close."

Kinetikx - Loved that.

Why don't you make the fat British girl hang upside down?

East Hill

Because then I would not be able to bring the bike down to ride it today (the back is a little messed up).

And who are you calling fat ?

The holdsworth I picked up: I hat you I hate you I hate you leave me alone I hate you.

"He chose me!" "It's been soo long..." "Why was he out with that Parmount so long last week? The Huffy!"

Yours is plural you, which I'm not sure if you mean it to be.

I would say:
Sei molto pił lenti di sembri

But I've only taken Italian 101 and 102


As for my bike, I think it would say
"Thank god you got me out of that basement got a nice Italian group on me! Now let's go do some centuries!"

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!

redneckwes - That was awesome... it sounds much like the smack talk my '82 Trek 750 lays down to the other bikes.

Oh #%$# it's SID!!!

"Those jerseys you wear are embarrassing. Can't you buy anywhere but leftovers on eBay? And get rid of that mullet for God's sake!"

you are much slower than you look. . .

Track bikes tend to be more condescending and insulting, don't you think?

Forrest and Grace…


We were really quite happy to be coming to Canada to work and I left England in 1972, leaving my beloved Grace behind but knew that it would not be long until she joined me. I could have never left if I knew that we could not be together.

It was terrible to see him go… despite being quite small he struck a dashing figure as he boarded the ship and it was bittersweet, knowing that our lives were going to be so much better but knowing that we would also have to be apart.

Some might think it strange that an environmentalist such as I would go to work for an oil company but I was pleased to know that I would be part of a revolutionary plan to eliminate vehicles from the work site and be able to provide a healthful and practical alternative for the company’s employees to travel over many, many acres.

I know it was hard for him because he was always looked down upon by most everyone because of his size and people thinking that he was somehow incapable of doing the same kind of work as the rest of them. I know he always dreamt that he would get picked for the races but it never happened.

I was so happy when I met Grace as although she was petite, she has the heart of a lion and that Lion’s head has become our family crest. Besides this, she was also really flexible if you know what I mean, wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

He makes me blush all the time.

I joined Forrest in 1973 and joined him in Canada doing very much the same work as he, making sure that people were able to get around quickly and safely without the awful stink of petrol and exhaust.

We did this work until we were retired and it was so nice that we were able to stay together, even if we were doing nothing more than collecting dust and getting a touch of rust here and there… I think a touch of rust makes Forrest even more dashing looking.

I hated being retired and Grace bore it far better than I and it was a very bright day when I discovered that we would both be coming out of retirement and not just that… I was expected to do things I never thought were possible. I was going to be a courier of people and I understand that I will be expected to run as fast as those taller chaps who used to mock me. Grace was going to stay the sweet and soft lady she always has been although like me, would be getting some new shoes and also be going on a diet and I think that she will surprise many people in what she is capable of doing. I have seen her carry loads that would buckle those who seem better suited for that kind of work.

It has been a wonderful 35 years and I am so pleased that a yooung old lady like myself can still look so good and Forrest is looking downright slim and sexy…rwarrrr !

She makes me blush a little too and I must say that she is still pretty flexible...

Forrest is pretty flexible for an old guy too.

This calls for a ...

East Hill

I really thought that I was finally going to be put out of my misery when the man pulled me out of the weeds and loaded me in the truck with a bunch of other decrepit bikes and worn out parts... it was such a sad end for those blokes.

I figured that my days of being a garden ornament were finally going to be over and must say, I welcomed that as I was not born to gather rust and serve as a trellis but was made to carry proper gentlemen around in style and comfort.

There was also a pretty French girl that must have been going somewhere else as no-one in their right mind would ever toss such a fine looking girl in the tip... or so I thought.

We did not spend too much time travelling and stopped at a nice house and to my surprise the French girl and I were set in the drive and no sooner had this happened that the garage door opened and I saw many old bicycles... some of them were even older than I and to my delight I saw that many of them were also English !

And there were also a few very beautiful French girls that have told me that they were almost sent to the tip and I have to tell them over and over they are far too beautiful for that to happen.

So rather than be tossed in the tip, the French girl and I now live with a bunch of equally old and rather interesting bicycles and I have become a bit of a local celebrity... we can rarely go out without people stopping and asking questions which are usually about how old I am.

I love taking him down to the shop where I am always happy to take people for rides while he ministers to the needy and I am very happy to be useful once again.

Very few people here have ever seen the likes of me and I seem to get along quite well with the young Dutch kids and those sensible folks that ride them.

I was born in England in 1948, my maker's motto was "Rudge it, don;t trudge it" and claimed we were the world's finest bicycles.

I have been feeling pretty fine of late.. it's amazing what a little fresh oil and a little polish can do to lift one's spirits and must say at 60, there is nary a creak from my frame and I am as smooth as I ever was.

Cheers!

please get your ass out of my face....

It's odd, I'm reading all of these stories and feeling bad for my bicycles that are out back under a tarp that is wrapped tightly around them. Good thing I've started working on almost all of them and hopefully will have a complete fleet soon . That and just about every bicycle that's been posted I've instinctively said, " ooooh beautiful" when the pictures come up. hah

The like of a neglected Bianchi:

I was a fine bike in my day, My owner was a good lad, he whiped me dry after every use, kept me inside, he never let me see rain for my safety, the man fell ill one day, I nolonger saw the light, I sat in the dark for several years, till one day, someone who i've yet to see took me out, he rode me far, slightly to hard, he watched me fall apart slowly, pushing wrong pieces into me to fix me where pieces fell, one day my tire went flat, he saw it and looked away taking my wheel off he leaned me against a fence with the wheel and walked away, I sat and sat for years, the rain, snow and dirt visited me always, I became a eyesoure, people looked at me and just kept walking, no one wanted to help me, I was just an ugly bike to them, seven years later a younge man claimed me, he brought me home, took pictures of me and showed me off to others, he saw past my uglyness, I found my right owner, he took me apart, everyday he works on my, removing my rust and paint the hard way, i know he cares, I know i'll always have a nice owner for the rest of my days, i sit aside his other bikes talking with them each night waiting to be repainted and rebuilt, waiting for the day my wheels are put on and I race down that road like the old days, I can't wait...

And thats my Bianchi's story
here he is when I got him.

HSean. There is a bike this reminds me of that i am going to claim in a few weeks once i get back to school. It's been sitting out in the rain for at least two years, and it's time it gets a proper home.

In my 68 years I have passed through the hands of may people and not one has ever seen me as anything but utilitarian... and I really never minded the work as that was what we were made for.

Other bikes, like the English girl, were made for racing as she is sleek and light, and as fast as the wind but not me.

I came into being when the world was at war and in those days everything was rationed... my older sister and I can laugh when we talk about how many patches we have seen and how threadbare our tyres have become for lack of replacements.

Some of these youngsters don't know what a patch is and have never known much in the way of hardship.

After more than 50 years of working and more than a little neglect I had been reduced to being nothing more than a bare and badly repainted frame and was gathering dust in the rafters of the shop... it was hard to watch all of these bikes riding in and out, being saved and rebuilt, while I was all but ignored.

We all like to be useful and hanging like a bat in the attic was not useful..

And then, that fellow who seems to live at the shop pulled me down from the rafters and after seeing what he had done for others, was actually a little excited about what might happen to me.

Now... I barely recognize the bike I see reflected in the shop's windows as I speed by.

Yes...I said speed.

And the English girl tells me that I am pretty...

Some say i'm ugly, my owner thinks i'm a work of art, the death of other bikes made me what I am today, their bodys came to good use for they where on their last ride and where badly damaged, I am a worker, I work hard, i'm very heavy, but I ride very nice, I make some noise, I'm from the 1970, and even 2000's, My owner calls me his tank, I pull and carrie anything he puts on me, I grow almost everyday, I'm getting new paint to soon he says, wonder what color i'll be, his other bikes envy me, they are nice and pretty looking yet he rides me everyday to work even though I weigh alot, Aparently i'm very fun to ride, one day I was hit by one of those motomonsters, because my size I only got a small dent, I'm safe, fun and a work of art, and helped many bikes out along the way.


Good, save as many as you can, I save any bike, even if I don't want it I make sure it finds a new home, why let them live at the dump?

This is My work horse, It's wonderful!