My wife and I are victims of bad timing. We got married and bought our house during the last housing bubble in 2005, and the amount of debt with which we were comfortable landed us in a decent old house in an interesting neighborhood, interesting in a way that only people who have spent some time in a deteriorating post-manufacturing, mid-sized, midwestern town can understand. The stories of things that have happened on my block are hilarious until I remember that I live in the middle of it. I’ll tell you about them if we ever have a beer together.
My neighbors to the north, however, are great people. They have become our fourth set of parents, bringing over baked goods, garden vegetables, and news of rummage sale finds we might like. That’s how I became the owner of my post-apocalyptic ride, this 1969 Schwinn Deluxe Racer.
I’ve written about several of my old Schwinns here before, and I’ll leave links to those at the bottom of the page. I started collecting antique bicycles when I realized that it made no sense to drive old cars all the time but cruise around town on a department store mountain bike. As usual, my response to this realization is that if something is worth doing, it’s worth overdoing, so now I have 18 bicycles in my basement (but to my credit, I just sold a ’62 Schwinn Typhoon to a fellow bicycle collector who has a ’65 Buick Riviera project – cool guy).
My bicycle sweet spot centers on late-’60s, early-’70s lightweight Schwinns, especially the bottom-of-the-line Racers and Speedsters. I like my bikes simple and unpretentious, unlike my ’63 Thunderbird.
Back in 2016, my neighbor met me in the driveway as I got home from work, and told me about a bike for sale at a rummage sale a block away, so we walked over there together and found this rough-looking Racer for ten dollars. Knowing that I could easily clean it up to look nearly new, I didn’t even haggle, even though it was sporting a ripped denim seat, the height of fashion in no time that I can imagine.
Side note: my neighbor found and bought the original seat at another rummage sale at the same house a year later. For some reason, my neighbor had to talk him down to fifteen dollars from twenty, more than I paid for the bike itself, but still less than the going rate for a green Schwinn Mesinger seat.
According to the serial number, my bike’s frame was built in November of 1968; therefore, by the time it was assembled, this bike was most likely considered a 1969 model. Notice, however, that the chainwheel is the classic Schwinn cloverleaf.
The 1969 Schwinn catalog shows that Schwinn switched to a lesser-loved “Mag-style” chainwheel that year, and indeed my February 1969-built Schwinn Heavy-Duti uses that newer design. While it’s possible that someone could have swapped parts over the years (something I could verify by looking at the date on the crank itself, although a different wheel can be easily transferred onto the same crank), it goes to show that very little is gospel in manufacturing.
By 1969, the Deluxe Racer was nearing the end of its life; the only differences between it and the standard Racer were chromed fenders, a deluxe seat with extra springs, and whitewall tires. The fenders alone made the Deluxe model worth the extra money, in my opinion.
An odd reason I’m in love with this Racer in particular is its hub, the simple, classic, single-speed Bendix Red Band. I can disassemble, grease, and reassemble one of these hubs in about 15 minutes if I have to get on with it. It’s fine for my flatland riding, and although I love Sturmey-Archer AWs and am fascinated by their internals, most of the time the extra gears aren’t really necessary.
Soon after, Bendix replaced the Red Band with the aptly named Bendix “70.” I’ve never noticed much of a difference between the two aside from the shell, but I’ve never looked that carefully either. By the time the Bendix “76” was introduced, it was “Made in Mexico,” a sign of the times, I guess.
One of the fun parts about old bicycles (and old cars) is piecing together their possible history. Mine was sold at Edward’s Cycle Shop in Flint, MI (our own Joe Dennis’s hometown). How it ended up 50 miles away is lost to time, and the seller didn’t seem to know anything about it either, although from what I remember, he was selling some of his parents’ belongings.
This Flint bicycle license (that was a thing for quite some time) shows that the bike spent at least some time in that longtime General Motors town.
The handlebars cleaned up nicely, didn’t they? Although I love my ’72 Raleigh Sports because it is beautiful as a British “Racer” should be, and my Sting-Rays because they’re iconic and fun, I recently conceded that this is the bike I’d ride through the end of the world if everything went to hell. The seating position is perfect, the frame is the perfect size for my 6-foot height, there are no cables to break, and now that I’ve disassembled it and greased everything, there’s little to go wrong. Plus, it’s Campus Green, one of my favorite bicycle colors, and although I also have a ’71 Racer in Campus Green (with a Sturmey-Archer AW), it has a shorter frame that’s not quite right, like the porridge.
My perfect end-of-the-world bicycle would not be possible, however, if it weren’t for my neighbors to the north. In Robert Frost’s “Mending Wall,” the narrator’s neighbor, proud of his “wisdom,” famously said that “good fences make good neighbors.” That’s true in some cases, but in others, it’s keeping an eye out for things you know they’ll like. Maybe my wife and I aren’t victims of bad timing after all.
Related Reading:
Bicycle Classic: 1966 Schwinn Deluxe Racer – Another Step Toward Clinical Hoarding
Bicycle Outtake: 1973 Schwinn Speedster–Kool Lemon for the Long of Leg
Great read, Aaron!
Sometimes neighbors can make all the difference. We get along really well with ours but our friends to the south have an even better relationship with their older neighbors. They have nightly cocktails and wine, heck they even went in on a Miata together last week!
As I retorted your bicentennial ray with my ’76 Kool Lemon ray, I see your Racer and raise you my ’65 King Size Heavy Duti. Unfortunately, someone replaced the lovely Bendix red band coaster hub with a Sturmey 3 speed.
You can see why the seat created a haggle – a period work or art and manufacture. I bet I’m not the only one here who bought something to complete a set/car/bike that if reduced to a percentage against the principal purchase, makes no practicable sense (at all).
Thanks, Sam! Here’s my beater ’69 Heavy-Duti – I bought it from a coworker who really wanted me to have it. It was really rough when I got it, but I think the only part I had to buy was a front axle; I had everything else to put it together. The seat is questionably high in this picture, but I think (?) I lowered it since then. I actually haven’t ridden it in a while.
Nice! Judging by the brake bridge that was a three-speed bike originally. And it looks like you have my thick gauge spoked S7 coaster wheel! Let’s trade, haha!
My Sting-Ray, same age as your bike, has a similar bike license sticker, from when it was new. My Dad and I took the new bike to the Chula Vista, CA police station, where they inspected it, filled out a card for the file, and gave me a sticker to put on the vertical bar under the seat, as yours is placed. Same dimensions, colors, typefaces, and materials. I still have the bike, and the license sticker on it. As it appears with yours, I got mine applied crookedly as well. Once it is stuck on there, it is not coming off nor can it be moved or straightened. Some outfit must have marketed those bike license stickers nationwide.
I love these old Schwinns, and I remember wanting one very badly in 1972, when I was about to graduate from my 20″ wheel bike to a bigger, more grown-up ride. But if I was getting a new bike, then my brother (two years younger) also had to get a new bike, and my parents declared that two new Schwinns was too much of an expense; our new bikes came from Sears.
Nothing wrong with a Sears; I have a beat-up old Austrian Sears (built by Puch, I believe) that rides really nicely.
The lugged Sears frames (and any bike with the Ted Williams brand on it) we’re built by Puch, and were excellent bicycles. You could even get a double-butted Reynolds 531 frame on certain models.
Interesting. As I kid then, I would have had no idea what Puch was. All I can remember is, it was a yellow 10-speed.
I don’t recall this specific model, but many of my friends and neighbors had bikes of this style when I was a kid. I myself inherited my older brother’s Raleigh 3-speed and rode it when I outgrew my Mountie kid’s bike. But then these upright, practical bikes became seriously uncool for whatever reason when I became a teen and suddenly everyone wanted a 10-speed (or more) racing bike with drop handlebars, ultrathin tires, no fenders or chainguard, derailleur gears, and a narrow, unsprung saddle. They were uncomfortable to ride and none of us actually raced on them. It’s not unlike 21-inch wheels and rubber-band tires on low-slung cars today that are sold as luxury family sedans.
Then the racing bikes became uncool and suddenly mountain bikes became hot. Most of these spent as much time on mountains as late-’70s racing bikes spent on the racetrack. Schwinn even uprooted themselves, moving from Chicago to Boulder, Colorado to try to burnish their mountain-bike credentials. Finally in the late 90s the bicycle industry stopped trying to sell specialty bikes to casual riders, producing “hybrid” or “comfort” bikes that were well suited to more relaxed cycling.
I used to watch the same fashion from behind the counter of AR Adams Cycle in Erie, PA. Customers who desperately needed a Raleigh Sports three speed for their planned 2-3 mile pedal around the neighborhood every evening after dinner, instead insisted on an uncomfortable, high performance bicycle capable of 20 mile rides. And would follow the delivery truck to the shop, and bang on the door insisting we open and sell them those bikes right now – not realizing that we’d already sold those bikes six weeks earlier. There was a reason we were closed on delivery day.
And then after three years of becoming ‘avid cyclists’ . . . . . bang! Nothing! Time to move on to the next fad. And a whole lot of bicycles were hanging in garages, gathering dust, for the next thirty years. At which point I was buying them up for $5-10.00 apiece, refurbishing them, and selling them to college students for transportation. Or converting them into fixies.
Meanwhile, I was out of Adams Cycle by ’76 and working in a steel mill, because business had fallen off so badly that Merle couldn’t afford to keep me on full time anymore.
I have a 1973(?) Raleigh Supercourse TT from the Carolton Works with Brooks saddle hanging up in my garage right now which I bought from A.R. Adams in Erie around ?1973?
I seem to remember Mr. Adams as being in his 50’s perhaps, and very resistant to selling the bike, which he didn’t think suitable to my needs. Nothing doing, Mr. Adams… gotta have the red racer with the chrome forks! As I recall (If I recall) one of his arguments was that the bike came with sew-ups on true racing rims and was impractical. I finally got him to change out the rims and tires.
Anyhow, I would never, ever, even to this day admit that he was absolutely right.
Here’s a random picture from the internet that is very close to my bike, except that I have white-wrapped handle bars as well as white hoods on the brake handles.
First off, there’s a 99.9% chance that I built and set up that bike for you. Back then, I was a rather young looking (could have passed for a high school student) blonde named Sunshine. As the Super Course and Schwinn Super Sport were the highest priced bikes Merle was willing to sell, I did all the setups on the good ones.
And I had a nice side hustle building sew-up wheels with Normandy hubs for those bikes. So equipped they were the ultimate amateur racing bike of the day.
As to Merle Adams: He was one of the most fascinating, and influential, people that passed thru my life, and to have met the two of us you’d have never guessed we had that relationship. AR Adams was a family owned business (started 1914 by Merle’s father) and I was always left with the strong impression that this is not how Merle wanted to spend his life.
Prior to dad’s death, Merle was a designer for the Ford Motor Company. One of the faceless masses of draftsmen working for Ford, and he was no design genius. One winter, on a slow day he brought in all his old renderings and we spent the day going through them. Having seen his ideas of modern car design in the 1950’s, I can understand why his greatest (and only) hit was the hood ornament for the 1955-56 Mercury. Yes, Merle designed the “big M” which became the cornerstone of Mercury advertising for those couple of years.
As a bicycle dealer, he was completely unsuited for the Bike Boom of the 1970’s, and succeeded despite himself. He hated 10-speeds, was a firm believer in the Raleigh Sports and especially the Raleigh Tourist (the rod-braked roadster straight out of the Downton Abbey village scenes), and selling kids bikes. Some of this rubbed off on me, as about a third of my collection is Sturmey-Archer geared.
Also, he refused to carry any bikes that sold for more than $150.00, unable to understand why somebody would be willing to pay that kind of money for a bicycle. It got bad enough that when I decided to start racing (very unsuccessfully, mind you) I ended up going to nephew John Adams’ shop on 12th street to buy a Gitane Professional Super Corsa, because Merle refused to order me a Raleigh International or Professional. Sew-up tires? No way they were ever seen in his shop.
But he was loyal to the manufacturers. Despite being, in his eyes, a Raleigh-Schwinn shop (NOT Schwinn-Raleigh), he dropped the Raleigh line like a hot potato in 1980 when Raleigh ceased to import bikes to the US and sold the naming rights to Kent Bicycle. The shop still exists, owned by a guy who started working for him not long after I left back in the late ’70’s.
In retrospect, he was completely right, and it was all those customers who were wrong in what they were buying.
I’d gotten back to Erie occasionally in the thirty or so years afterwards and would invariably stop by to see him. After his death, his oldest son (who worked with me at a 15 year old at the time) called me to let me know he’d died.
Hopefully, in about three weeks, I’m doing what will probably be my last trip to Erie (given how often I’ve been back over the last 40 years) to check out some of the old landmarks: Both Adams cycle shops (they’re both still in business), my old place on the corner of 8th and Liberty above the frame shop (I was living there the day they moved in), Sullivan’s Tavern, and of course to see how much Gannon College (no, Penn State is a university, Gannon is a college) has grown.
Rereading your account, in case it has gotten confusing, most of the Super Courses I deal with came with 27″ alloy rims and clincher tires. Thus the wheel building business.
This wouldn’t have been odd back then. I’ve got a ’72 Raleigh Gran Prix (the model under) built at their Dutch plant which has bolt on wheels (not quick release), and the rear hub is a flip-flop like you’d usually find on a fixed gear (not the usual Normandy alloy). Back then, the demand was so huge they were building bikes with whatever they could get. This variant I’ve got seems to be very common in the Richmond area, but totally unknown in Erie. And yes, I’ve got the Weinman brake lever boots, too, which were rare on bikes under the Super Course.
I guess the supply chain was fixed by 1975 since my dad’s Grand Prix had the proper Normandy hubs, and the not so great plastic Simplex derailleurs and shifters.
Your stories about your time working in the shops, Syke, remind me of something I was thinking about recently. Just the other day, I brought up the book/movie “High Fidelity,” where the main character (in the movie – it’s been years since I read the book) listed his Top 5 jobs, and one was no longer an actual job. I think one of my dream jobs would be a Schwinn bicycle mechanic, circa 1970. I’m sure it wasn’t super lucrative, but it just sounds like fun.
Mr. Adams certainly was an interesting man, from my brief encounter. You are lucky to have known him as he sounds fascinating. It’s possible that I am wrong about the tires having been sew-ups but I do distinctly remember that he didn’t want to sell me the bike with the wheels that were on it but finally agreed after I suggested changing them out. I am sorry to say that I don’t recall you; I’d like to have met someone as interesting as you during my Erie days. I still have all the original equipage from the bike as I bought it- I tucked the pieces away when I updated the bike – simplex derailleur (which I never liked) Weinman center-pulls, atom petals. I think I still even have the cottered crank somewhere. As a side note, I took a look at the original GB handlebars and the tape wrap is the stock red; just the weinman brake hoods are white. The only things on the original order that might have been at all memorable I elected to put alpine gearing on the bike, and -blasphemy!- I had an alloy kickstand installed. No one on a racing bike ever had a kickstand; It went against the ethos of the day. I haven’t been back to Erie in several years myself, although I do have to say the Peninsula was beautiful and the water shockingly clear that time.
My favorite Schwinn was my three speed derailleur cruiser. The bike shop mech had trouble getting the shifting right and the chain would bind. Not sure of the year. Black with chrome fenders, black seat with the S. Heavy steel frame tho. I understood instantly when I learned about carbon fiber frames. That bike I could ride all day, did 30 miles for a bike-a-thon once for MS or CF.
Back in the mid nineties I worked in bike shops while a student. I always thought it was a
shame that most old bikes were basically considered worthless. My apartment was filled
with ones that had been regulated to the dumpster at work. I would fix them and pass them
on to others for the cost of the repairs. These old Schwinns were perfect for campus use,
as they were such tanks, and at that time no one would think of stealing them.
I’ll still happily grab any Schwinn Varsity I can (at reasonable price, mind you) and refurb it for campus duty. The best inner city commuter bike you can buy.
When I was a tween in the mid-’70s the Varsity seemed to me to be the stylish choice of the cool kids. I later learned these were a somewhat heavy entry-level sport bike, but time has proven them to be durable. My dad didn’t like Schwinns because they used “electro-forged” frames rather than the lugged frames on his preferred Raleighs and other bikes. I’m not sure what was bad about the EF frames; they certainly looked sleeker and more all of a piece.
A man of my own heart, as I’ve got 19 on the road and one in restoration (a ’79 Peugeot PX-10, which from the year means finding the proper components for the year is a bitch, right now it’s a five year mission).
That is a beautiful restoration, and the basics of Schwinn’s most successful frame. A Racer in one-speed coaster brake, or three-speed Sturmey-Archer AW with Weinmann/Dia-Compe sidepulls. A Collegiate with a 5-speed ‘Schwinn Approved’ Huret Allvit rear derailleur. Go to 27″ wheels and either 5 or 10 speed gearing and you’ve got a Suburban. Ditch the fenders and go to drop bars and you’ve got a Varsity. Put a good tubular fork and centerpull Weinmann/Dia-Compe brakes and it’s a Continental.
I’m not surprised that by ’76 the coaster brake was made in Mexico. A combination of the Bike Bust following the ’71-74 Bike Boom, coupled with the accountants running Schwinn ragged in attempting to cut down costs (and break the Chicago plant union) had them cheapening components wherever possible, finally resulting in the company’s bankruptcy a couple of decades later.
Oh yes, that green – the color of the Pea Picker I got a year or two after your bike was made. It always reminded me of the Verdoro Green that was so popular on Pontiacs starting in 1968, and was a beautiful color with cleaned up.
And I recall those license stickers. A couple of times the Fort Wayne Police Department would have an event at my grade school, and we would all register our bikes and get a sticker. It worked, because nobody ever stole it. 🙂
One of my online video rabbit holes involves ’50s and ’60s bicycle maintenance and ownership for kids, and the videos often discuss getting a license in case your bike is stolen. Sounds like that was based on reality!
AFAIK, Schwinn still carries two lines of bicycles: Local Bike Shop (LBS) and Big-Box (BB) discount stores, with corresponding levels of price and quality. Back in the day, Schwinns were exclusively sold by LBS as indicated by the sticker on the feature Racer. If you knew a kid with a Schwinn, you knew his parents coughed up some cash for it.
It’s actually rather topical to discuss bicycles since, ever since Trump’s tarriffs, the cheap BB bikes (of any brand) have been in very short supply. I’m not sure if that’s the current reason as it might now be the discount stores don’t have sufficient personnel to assemble the bikes and get them out to the floor but, whatever the reason, there’s still a definite dearth of the Chinese bikes.
One rather odd note is that, although strictly pedal bikes were affected, motorized electric bikes were exempt, so those are actually plentiful.
I’ve often heard that Sam Walton’s kids are avid cyclists, which has resulted in the top of the line (usually Schwinn’s) bikes that WalMart carries are actually quite good value for the money. You’re still only getting what you pay for, admittedly, but they’re nice compared to the rest of the WalMart stock which is junk. Don’t look at anything at WalMart that costs under $250-300.00.
And yes, the bike shops are gutted, to a level that hasn’t been seen since the ’70’s Bike Boom. It nice to see some of those long-suffering owners are finally having some good times again.
The discount stores have never had personnel to properly assemble and setup a bicycle. The job usually goes to whoever’s available and has a basic knowledge of handling tools. And the tools used are whatever is in the back room from whatever other mechanical and maintenance jobs are done. So, for the most part, you go into one of those stores and you’re buying a cheap bike indifferently assembled.
I started my bicycle mechanic era at a toy store, and it was just as you describe.
The guy who taught me, such as it was, looked like a combination of Gene
Wilder and Larry Bird, with a disreputable moustache. He was nicknamed
Adjustable Joe, as that was his primary assembly tool. I had been doing most
of my own bike repairs for a while at the time I started, and had read a few
comprehensive repair manuals, so I attempted to put the Huffys together
correctly.
This was frequently impossible due to the general quality of the bike. On
some of the “higher quality” offerings, the components would be sort of ok,
comparable to bottom of the rung bike shop product level. The poor frame
alignment and material would prevent appropriate adjustment, with attendant
shifting and braking malfunction.
I found it interesting how the bikes mimicked legit cycles, substituting pipe
steel for chromoly, and simple, useless, coil spring suspension forks for
something actually effective. The one area that at least looked good was the
paint, which generally was fairly impressive. Sell the sizzle.
A lot of it is simply caused by demand, but I’m sure that supply has been impacted as well.
That is a lovely looking bike in a great colour. Excellent work on not only fixing it up but using it as well.
Where I live there is a very large hill to get to the main part of town which makes these single speeds less practical so I have thus far resisted a classic bicycle.
No sweat, David! There’s nothing wrong with a three-speed version of the same bike, or as Syke mentioned above, the five-speed Collegiate. 🙂
I’ll always try to talk someone into an old bike (or car).
What a beauty! A plain and simple Schwinn with the “electro-forged” frame. I just have three Schwinns myself (Blue Typhoon Cruiser, Blue Suburban and a Root Beer Brown Continental, all from the 1970s.) I think if I get another one, it’ll be a 3-speed, in the same green as your bike, if I can find it…
Hi Mike. Would you send me an email? I tried to send you one, but presumably you never got it.
curbsideclassic(at)gmail.com
Thanks.
Sent!
I have a 1968 Schwinn Panther, same color.
I love that bike! I saw one just like it at Bicycle Heaven in Pittsburgh a few years ago. Is that the last year for the Panther?
yes
Great article! I happen to have my parents’ bicycles of this era, one of them a Racer in black. That one was my father’s before he was married, then he bought one for my mother a few years later.
Where is a good source for new tires and inner tubes that look period correct?
try Universal Cycles, they stock a massive number of tires including 27″ and Schwinn specific 26″. If they have the right size I like Panaracer Paselas sine they have a tan sidewall that looks like like an old gumwall or new sew up (correct for my modern cyclocross bike since)
Cool, that looks almost exactly like my son’s project bike in the same shade of green. He got his a few years ago from Oregon State University surplus for pocket change after it had been impounded and it has an early 70s Corvallis bicycle registration. It’s a little beat up but usable.
A perfect summer post, especially for anyone who has ever owned and loved a favorite bike from that vintage! The green color of this one reminds me of that of a lime LiveSaver candy. My blue Schwinn (not a Deluxe Racer) was freedom to me, and I loved that thing.
I had almost forgotten about bicycle licenses in Flint, but the picture included in this post brought so much back!! Wow. Talk about a throwback. Aaron, thanks for this one!
I wonder if you can still get a bicycle license…
Nah, not worth calling about. 🙂
Aaron – Thanks; it is pretty.
I believe the Schwinn is completely superior to the comparable Raleigh in all aspects. It fits (3 frame sizes). It has much better chrome and paint quality. The Bendix coaster brake hub is fun. When it has caliper brakes they are Weinmanns – not English. And Schwinn always had better and more colors.
For me the saddle has always been the hardest to duplicate on a Schwinn refurb.; everything else I can restore but I have a hard time finding the correctt saddle.
The Racer and subsequent Speedster were my focus for several years but then I found out that the Suburbans were also available with 3 speed S/A hubs (early and later years only) and those were what I sought. I prefer the Suburbans because they have 27 inch rims (versus 26) and there were a very few that I’ve found that have the 3 speed with a coaster brake – not reliable but for me nicer to ride with one less cable, caliper and lever.
As for the chromed versus painted fenders I prefer the painted – mainly for the two contrasting pinstripes.
Finally you did very well finding 26 inch white walls. I looked for a long time for a pair for a Traveler and ended up with used “Westwind” tires I found at Ben’s in Milwaukee in their big back room full of old parts.
As much as I love my Raleigh, I think the Schwinn is nicer to ride. On the Raleigh, I feel like I’m right over the handlebars, but the Schwinn feels like it has a longer wheelbase or something (I don’t think it does).
Probably your Schwinn has a greater caster angle (the steering axis is less vertical). This makes for a more relaxed cruising experience and less twitchy steering.
I was too curious not to compare them. Honestly, everything looks very similar except for the handlebar design; the Schwinn stem pushes the handlebars forward. It seems too simple to be the answer, but maybe that’s it.
Dad was a Schwinn dealer from 1965-1977 (Charlie the Bicycle Man in Lima, Ohio).
My first brand new bike was a Schwinn DeLuxe Racer, red, with a 2-speed Bendix coaster brake hub. You pedaled backwards slightly to shift gears.
I have one bike with a Bendix Automatic, and I actually laced it into my existing rim just so I could recreate my dad’s Coppertone Typhoon I would ride when I was a kid.
Unfortunately, the hub I bought at a swap meet ended up being from a Heavy-Duti with larger spokes, so I spent a little time on the phone with the mechanics at Memory Lane in Ohio trying to figure out how to make it all work. It’s cool in theory, but I prefer an SA.
I should have mentioned in my original post that as part of a birthday present a year or so later (1966, I think), Dad took the bike back to the store and DID convert it to a 3-speed. S-A, of course, and hand brakes.
I was uncomfortable with the idea of hand brakes when it was first given to me, so I picked the 2-speed rear hub when it was first given to me.
Great article and one that made me smile! I’m from Cincinnati originally. Back in 1971 a group of 6 boys (age 13-14) all got new bikes. I bought the only Schwinn, as others chose trendy brands that were hot at the time. We rode together every night after dinner, often 20+ miles if we planned the route ahead of time.
My Metallic Brown Schwinn Continental was considered by my friends to be the Buick of the group, meaning it was slower and older in design compared to the others. But it was the only one that didn’t have to undergo major repairs like a bent rim or back derailer. I bought that bike at Montgomery Cyclery.
A year later I had a girlfriend, but wasn’t old enough for a driver’s license so I headed back to Montgomery Cyclery and bought a Schwinn Deluxe Twinn in Campus Green. With leather seats and a 5 speed, it was the fanciest tandem bike in my neighborhood.
Now many years later, I still had these bikes in my possession! We moved to a smaller home and downsized the amount of storage space we had available.
So I sold my one-owner Continental and Deluxe Twinn to a family from Utah who were driving through Lexington, KY where I live now. They bought them and hoped to keep them in their family for another 50 years!
The quality of those bikes was still amazing. They had always been stored inside, been maintained, and were well loved.
I’m impressed that you bought a Twinn to ride on dates. That’s a whole new level of game! 🙂
James – Good for you – passing on that Schwinn heritage. I’ve given my nephew, who loves bicycles and cycling as much as I, two old Schwinns like yours. I got both used – a tall Continental in opaque blue from Cedar Rapids and a kool lemon five speed Twinn from Denver. He lives in Des Moines and particularly likes riding the Twinn solo. The quality of those Schwinns is impressive and it is always fun for me to restore one. If the paint is good enough for me to buy them then the only parts I have to replace may be tires, tubes, brake pads and maybe (if it is not original) the saddle.
Somehow never had a Schwinn, and don’t remember the bicycle brand I learned to ride on (bought at a Toys-R-Us in Catonsville MD circa 1963) but in 1967, my Dad took us to Sears in South Burlington, Vt. to pick out new bicycles for our birthday (I’m a twin, sister and I are co-oldest), I chose 3 speed english racer which I wish I still had, I rode the wheels off it. My sister got a Sears Spaceliner, which I somehow inherited and still own. Don’t think my sister has owned a bicycle since, but I’ve had 3 since; a 1972 Gitane (10 speed) with Simplex deraileur, a 1987 Mercier with Suntour deraileur (destroyed in a collision with a car in 1992 but the tubing was salvaged by a co-worker and became part of a recumbent bicycle he built) and a 1992 Performance with Shimano Ultegra which I still own (and haven’t ridden in some time). Frankly the 1992 accident spooked me something fierce, and the traffic in my city has exploded since then, which makes me reluctant to ride on road (and I live in sunbelt, can’t ride fast enough off road to keep me cool, unfortunately).
The only automotive connection in this is that when they were loading the boxes in July 1967 into Dad’s 1965 F85 Wagon, they tore the headliner in the cargo area. The Sears people said they would own up for the damage, but somehow found out that my Dad had Allstate insurance and instead somehow put in a claim for damage on his insurance. My Dad was understandably livid, for some reason moreso at Allstate than Sears (know Allstate owned by Sears) and he refused to consider their policy for the rest of his life. Instead of “the good hands” people he would call them “the slippery hands” people. Even though the dollar damage wasn’t much he never forgot nor forgave them for that.
Aaron
(my middle name… though pronounced Erin 🙂
love the writing style.
I just started to geek out – getting this 1969 Collegiate.
Your seat is perfect. I’d like to find one like that and A rear rack that fits the vibe/era of my new purchase. Any ideas/leads? Please email me: sean@seankirkpatrick.com