The Freecycle Bicycle

Introducing my latest folly (number 3, if you’re keeping count). This one was the cheapest yet – totally free – but has the potential to end up costing more than the other two, which would qualify it as a true folly. I have no intention of letting that happen, however (fear not, dear husband).

I've been looking for an inexpensive secondhand bike for my daughter to keep at the summer house we share with my family, and I finally found something suitable. The bike is a kid’s (24-inch wheels) Diamondback Recoil DS of unknown age. It was acquired from a member of my local Freecycle group a few weeks ago. (Freecycle is a network of people whose common goal is to keep usable items out of landfills by offering them free of charge to others in their local area. Find a group near you on the Freecycle website.) I had replied to an offer of a “Girls 24-inch Mountain Bike”, and when I arrived to pick it up, I had no idea what to expect, as I hadn’t asked any questions about it. I was pleased to see the Diamondback brand and the simple style of the bike, but not so thrilled to see some rust and mud. Still, it was free, and I could always Freecycle it again if it needed more work than I could handle.

My daughter had a lukewarm reaction to the bike’s appearance, but was still excited that she had just received a “new” bike. When we took the bike out to start cleaning it last weekend, she had already devised a plan of action to improve its appearance. The faded neon pink decals just had to go, she said, so she plans to peel them off and replace them with white tropical flower decals from the automotive aisle in Target. However, we both agreed that this guy should stay:

Before we put any time or money into the bike, I tried to do a quick assessment of what needed to be done and whether it was worth keeping. Two things were obviously needed – new grips on the handlebars (the current ones are worn through the ends) and at least one new tube (the back tire is about halfway deflated, but we were unable to get any air into it because the valve is damaged). Although my daughter would prefer to get rid of the knobby tires, they seem to be in good condition and will stay for now. The frame is steel and quite heavy, but I saw no signs of rust there (only on the wheel rims and hardware such as screws and bolts). The saddle is faded and has a small tear, but is still in good shape. I was relieved to find that the seatpost was not stuck in its current position. I adjusted the saddle height and then asked my daughter to take a very slow ride around our house on the grass to test the gears and brakes. She reported that the gears worked fine, but the brakes were “grabby”. I’ll have to consult my Big Blue Book of Bicycle Repair to learn how to adjust the cantilever brakes, but at least we know the rear derailleur is working (we’ll test the front one after we replace the tube). I’m hoping the cables will just need lubrication, but I might attempt to replace them myself with more help from the book. I will also have to do some research on the suspension fork, since I know nothing about them. Hopefully, it won’t be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. So far, the bike seems worth keeping. At the very least, it will give me a lesson in evaluating used bikes. At the very most, it will become a safe, comfortable bike for my daughter at very little expense. Like any fixer-upper, though, it may have a few surprises in store for us.

Mother knows best about spring cleaning

Mother Nature has been graciously lending me a hand with my spring cleaning lately. Last week was cold and rainy, leaving me quite content to stay home and catch up on our post-vacation laundry and housework. Beautiful spring weather arrived just in time for a Friday night Phillies game with family and friends. Saturday was warm enough to put on our flip-flops and shorts and spend the afternoon in the driveway cleaning our new old bikes. I have been waiting for the chance to start working on my Raleigh, and my daughter was eager to join me. She parked her new old bike (which will be introduced in a separate post) next to mine, and we spent all day scrubbing and chatting. She enjoyed my lesson in finding the right cleaning tool for different parts of the bike. Her favorite tool became the baby bottle brush with sponge tip, while I stuck with the old standby my mother had introduced to me, the toothbrush. Poor Daddy doesn't have (or want) a new old bike to clean, so he took off for a ride on his favorite trail. Sunday was slightly cooler and cloudier, but Daughter was anxious to make more progress on our bikes, so another afternoon in the driveway followed. Once again we worked until dinner time, just as a chill came into the air to signal that the weekend was ending. This week's forecast is almost a carbon copy of last week's - cold and rainy during the week, with a beautiful weekend to follow. I'm looking forward to getting more greasy bike grime under my fingernails, although I'm still trying to clean out this weekend's accumulation. An old toothbrush should do the trick.

The Raleigh folly

Am I crazy? A few weeks ago I sold my four-year-old, spotlessly clean, perfectly good, department store mountain bike for $30, and on Sunday I bought this 36-year-old, dusty, dented, scratched, slightly rusty Raleigh LTD-3 with two flat tires for $15.

Raleigh folly or find? Only time and elbow grease will tell.
Heron head badgeHeron head chainringRear fender-benderSturmey-Archer hub dated "73 2"

Honestly, I didn't think it was still possible to buy an old Raleigh bike in reasonable condition for a mere $15. Low-priced, quality vintage bikes on craigslist seem to be snapped up in minutes, while the lesser quality vintage bikes keep showing up like unclaimed luggage on the baggage carousel. I decided to look a little further outside the big city, thinking there might be less competition from the "bike flippers" who buy and sell for a profit. A few days ago, I spotted an ad for a "Women's Classic Bike - $15". It contained a very brief description, stating that the bike was in good condition with very little rust and had been stored in a basement. Here's the photo that accompanied the ad:

It looked like a Raleigh to me, but I'm certainly no expert. At $15, I was sure it would be gone in a flash if it was a Raleigh, and since it was located quite a distance away, I hardly had a chance at beating anyone to the prize anyway. To my surprise, the ad was still active on Saturday, so I sent an email inquiring about the make and model. The reply was Raleigh, and after debating whether it was worth the drive, I decided to call and get more details. The owner agreed to hold it for me until Sunday, and actually took a half hour off my drive by meeting me at a closer location where she had an appointment that morning.

The exchange was made, and as soon as the seller departed, my daughter (who had accompanied me on my little adventure) jumped out of the car to examine the bike we had come so far to buy. Right away she spotted the beautiful chainring, which I explained was a heron's head, the symbol of Raleigh. She begged me to go for a test ride around the parking lot, but the flat tires made it impossible. I was surprised how small the bike seemed, especially the wheels, compared to the giant 700s on my other bike. I'm really looking forward to the feel of curvy handlebars again (though it may be a while!).

After a morning spent driving through the beautiful countryside of eastern Pennsylvania, I arrived home with my prize. I dreaded the reaction from my husband, thinking he wouldn't be able to see past the scratches and dents, but once again he surprised me. He couldn't wait to get it down from my car's bike rack and have a look at it. "I used to have a Raleigh," he said. I hastened to acknowledge its flaws before he said anything negative about the bike, but when I pointed out the dents, he replied, "I can take care of them." At that point, I knew the bike had passed muster. It was worth $15.

Then he said, "So how much could you sell it for?"

Betty Foy and her mother

As I was perusing the vintage bikes listed on ebay a few days ago, one particular mixte frame bike stopped my scrolling mouse dead in its tracks:

It immediately brought to mind the beautiful Rivendell bike named Betty Foy, which is one of the finalists in Dottie’s search for her next bike:

Details, details:



Shopping details here:
Betty Foy by Rivendell Bicycle Works
J. B. Louvet Mixte listed on ebay (going, going, gone?)

What would Yehuda Moon do?

Last week I sold my old bike, the one that I bought about four years ago to accompany my daughter around the neighborhood. It had been taking up space in our garage for over a year, and my husband wanted it out before lawn mower season arrives.

My first thought was to donate the bike to Neighborhood Bike Works, a non-profit organization that teaches kids to work on bikes and eventually earn one after putting in enough hours. But their website says they are not interested in low-end department store bikes. So after offering it to family and friends with no success, I decided to try selling it on craigslist and put the proceeds toward a secondhand bike for our daughter.

Choosing an asking price, however, was a bit uncomfortable for me. The bike was in perfect working condition and looked nearly new, but it was just an inexpensive mountain-bike-wannabe from a big sporting goods store. Although decals on the frame boasted that it was “Shimano equipped” and made by Mongoose, a name that most people would recognize, I felt like I was trying to sell inferior goods. Just one year ago I had experienced firsthand the difference between a department store bike and a bike shop bike, yet now I was trying to convince another person to buy a lower quality bike. Or was I just being a bike snob? How bad can Shimano parts be? How low-end does Mongoose go? Was I promoting cycling or leading someone toward a money pit bike?

Eventually I realized that it could simply be another person’s first step to discovering (or rediscovering) the joy of biking, as it was for me. I priced it low enough to keep my guilt at bay and their investment minimal in the event that they too decided to upgrade to a better quality bike. There was a lot of interest in the bike for a few days, and when the eventual buyer came to pick it up, I knocked $10 off the price without even being asked. Maybe not what Yehuda Moon would do (he’d most likely put it out on his bike-sharing racks, I think), but at least it made both the buyer and seller feel better. What would you do?

[Yehuda Moon and the Kickstand Cyclery is an online comic strip by Rick Smith. Read the first one here.]