Honey, I punked the kids

As my 3 children grew and new bicycles were needed I tossed their old frames or what was left of them in the basement. Occasionally, a kid would approach me saying a friend would give him $20 for the Mongoose or $50 for an old Schwinn Predator. I always said,”No.” They always accused me of being a, “pack rat.” When they had grown and started families of their own a return trip for the holiday always started with a trip to the basement. That was until one year they came back up to ask where their frames were. I replied, “No, you were right. I was a pack rat. I had to clean the mess up and send it all to the junk yard.” I never saw three grown adults start whining like little babies before. Evan my son-in-law stated bemoaning the fact that he sold his Redline to the brother of his old girlfriend. I casually asked who it was and added,” It sucks to be you.” Little did they know I was on an 18 month mission to restore each one with salvageable parts or NOS original parts with no repop anything. If the bike was put out to pasture with Skyway wheels instead of Satellite, I found NOS Skyway’s. Try finding handle grips emblazoned with the name Hot Dog that came packaged in a plastic hot dog bun. I called the father of the kid who bought my son-in-law’s bike and after digging in a pile of cow manure laden plywood we found the Redline buried at the bottom. Since just about every name bicycle manufacturer was sold to a less than impressive company it was not easy getting original decals or anything else for the Redline, Schwinn Mongoose and Fox until somehow, some way I was connected to the kid in Washington who originally designed the Redline decals. One bike was painted in Washington, two were powder coated in Chicago and another painted by a guy in Massachusetts. I was operating out of my hone in New Hampshire. Christmas came and I had everyone close their eyes as I only brought in one bike at a time. Near the end I told them to close their eyes once again when one of mine said,” That’s it dad. There are no more.” I said ,” then I must gave messed up.” I rolled my son- in-law’s Redline and told the group to open their eyes and tell me who this one belonged to. Yeah, there was a lot if emotion in the room. Later in the night as the Christmas festivities progressed I found my kids still in the living room with beers and cocktails in hand still sitting in their restored bicycles telling stories of bicycle adventures of their youth. Although I try I could never come up with something equally appreciated in the following years, I gave up trying because the memories of that Christmas are enough to last a lifetime