My Three Schwinn’s

Tim Lewis, 6-13-08

OK, I’ve never written in a blog, but here it goes.

I’ve owned several bikes through the years, but I have an affinity for Schwinns. I’m not really sure why. Maybe they're sentimental to me because they were mostly built in Illinois and that’s where I grew up. Maybe because Dave’s Schwinn Shop was only a few blocks from home and I used to go in there and drool at all the shiny new bikes. Whatever the reason, I kind of gravitate to them and I’ve owned 3.

My 1998 S-20 mountain bike is presently on semi-permanent loan to my brother-in-law. It’s a full suspension bike, but it was built before they really had the full-suspension thing figured out. Even so, I’ve had plenty of good miles on the bike. It kept me sane when I was stuck on the East Coast with nothing to do. Solo miles around a lake on Saturday or Sunday were an easy high-point of the week. I would ride it to Blockbuster to get movies and the IGA store to get food. Both places looked at me like I was crazy for riding a bike when a car was so much easier. My co-workers seemed to have similar feelings when I showed up at work with funny shoes and shorts. It was OK, I never gave a damn about them anyway.

Two weeks ago I bought my latest Schwinn. It’s a Paramount road bike that was built in Waterford, Wisconsin in March of 1990. It’s not particularly flashy with its Campy triple drivetrain and standard sized tubing (the blingy ones had ‘oversized tubing’), but it’s nice enough that you’re not going to mistake it for a junkyard-salvaged Varsity. I bought it off Ebay, and when it showed up, the wheels needed some attention. That’s the one thing I don’t trust myself to do, yet, so they were off to Huntington Beach Bikes to be trued. Yesterday was my first day to ride the Paramount.

The first thing you notice is that it’s a little heavy. Nothing absurd, but compared to my Cannondale there’s definitely a heft to it. The second thing I notice is that it’s quiet. Sure the Campy hub will sing when you stop pedaling, but other than that the thing just doesn’t make much noise. Lastly, it’s smooth. Have you ever watched a film of a desert race truck busting it way over rocks and ditches but the cab doesn’t really seem to move? Well, that’s what this kinda feels like. It just feels very calm when riding. You know, my Cannondale is a nice riding bike, too, but it just isn’t as composed as the Paramount when the road gets a little rough, like that ugly patch on the River Road. I’m looking forward to putting a bunch of miles on this bike. It won’t be in any races, but I can see it being the one I grab for a fun ride or century.

The last Schwinn was my first. I had a hand-me-down Montgomery-Wards bike prior to this, but it was run-over in the driveway. I had learned to ride on a little bike with solid rubber tires. I don’t really count that either. This was the first bike that I really felt was mine and that I really loved.

At school we had a ‘Run-a-thon’ money making thing every year. You’d get pledges that was related to how many laps you’d run on race day. There were all sorts of prizes for raising this chunk of money or that. They didn’t matter. The top prize was a brand new Schwinn Tornado Jr. That was the carrot I needed. We didn’t have much money. My mother was raising me by herself and she was a teacher at my school. Her yearly salary was $8000. New bikes weren’t in the budget. I went to everyone I could all around town to get pledges for the Run-a-thon. Some people would give a buck or two outright. Some would promise a dime, quarter, or even a dollar per lap.

When the Saturday came to run, we went to a local park and saw the track that was set up to run. I was expecting a high-school running track. It was a smaller. All the better to turn laps on, I thought. The running time was 1 hour. I don’t remember stopping. I’m sure I had to slow down, but at the end of the hour I was spent. I do remember that. I think I ran 19 laps. In retrospect, that was probably about 3 miles. Not bad for an 8 year old.

The awards ceremony was about 2 weeks after the event. Pledges were one thing, but the awards were given out based on the actual money received. I went to everyone I could to get them to pay up. I know my Mom was doing the same. She worked her butt off to help me out with the deadbeats. On the Wednesday night before the awards, Mom set me down and had a ‘big boy’ talk. She said that she knew I had put a lot of work into the Run-a-thon, but other people had put a lot of work into it also. She told me that she didn’t know how it was going to turn out, but that it wasn’t good for me to have my heart too set on the bike. There just wasn’t much chance of me getting it and I needed to accept defeat well just as I need to accept winning graciously. It was a grim talk, but an important lesson.

The Friday came and that afternoon before school let out was the awards banquet. They called third place up in front of the auditorium for the special prize. It wasn’t me. Then they called second place up. It wasn’t me. At this point, the tension was just about too much for me. I knew it was either the bike or nothing and that loathsome Principal seemed to enjoy stretching out the suspense.

Then he said my name.

My feet didn't touch the ground as I ran up on the stage. Then they let me ride my new bike around in front of everyone. There aren’t too many times in a kid’s life where he gets to experience a joy as pure as that. I had worked my tail off, but more importantly, my Mom had worked hers off. Later, she told me that on that Wednesday the secretary had taken her into the office and told her that I had nearly a 2-to-1 lead on the next kid. There was no way I wasn’t going to win the bike. The win wasn’t just for me. It was for us. Mom really made it happen for me.

I rode that little bike all over town. At some point it was just too small and being a fickle kid I sold it at a garage sale to help buy my new Diamondback Viper BMX (layed away all summer at Dave’s Schwinn, of course). A Predator was just too much on my lawn-mowing budget. The Viper was a good bike and served me well for probably 5 years delivering ump-teen million newspapers in the process. It was my last bike before getting a car and saw untold abuse. The Viper was always a little more of a utilitarian relationship, though. The Tornado was love.