KEVIN CULLEN
The interstate was icy and the traffic was horrendous, but Jim and I were like a couple of crack addicts, doing anything for our next fix …
Yes, we were on our way to a winter swap meet, sponsored by the Hoosier Antique and Classic Bicycle Club of Indianapolis. Most bike shows are held in the summer, so collectors drive hundreds of miles to this one every February.
Jim Allison, an old friend of mine, had rented a 14-foot U-Haul box truck. During a raging snowstorm the night before, he and his 16-year-old son packed it full of old bicycles and bike parts to sell at the swap meet, which is held in a gymnasium a few miles west of Indianapolis.
We have gone to the “winter swap” for years. I don’t set up as a vendor; instead, I like to look around, talk to other bike guys, and look for parts that I need.
The bicycle’s place in history is largely forgotten. The bicycle craze of the late 1800s and early 1900s led to the paving of roads, freed women from being stuck at home, and made it possible for everyday people to travel across the landscape in a way they never had before. Later, after the Model T took over, the bicycle became, to many, only a toy for children.
You can see and touch that history at a bike show. There were no antique high-wheelers this time, but there were several bikes from the 1895-1920 era. The frames haven’t changed that much through the years, but the wheels have. Really old bikes often had wooden rims, and “single tube” tires, without inner tubes. All the saddles, of course, were covered in leather.
Some of the most beautiful bikes were the balloon-tired models from 1933 to about 1960. They were made to mimic motorcycles and luxury cars, so they had big, fat tires, lots of chrome, glass jewels, horn tanks, and large saddles with cushiony springs. Kids had to be tough to pedal a 65-pound bike uphill, but they did it.
Some of the really nice bikes of that era are pretty valuable. I was awed by the boy’s Silver King, by Monark, which had a frame made of gleaming aluminum tubing. The Schwinn Black Phantom was every boy’s dream —sleek, streamlined, spring-action front fork, rear rack, built-in fender light, drum brake … even a key that locked the front fork. Nifty!
Most old bikes aren’t worth that much because they have been neglected, repainted, or lost important parts. Often, collectors buy girls’ bikes and strip them of the parts they need to restore a boy’s bike. Most collectors are men, so they prefer the boys’ models.
Some bike guys are drawn to the beauty of the old beasts, and others like the unusual designs. Still others seek bikes identical to the ones they once had as kids, or the bikes they wanted then, but could not afford.
That’s why so many collectors focus on the Schwinn Sting-Ray, the dream of every Baby Boomer. They were made to look like sports cars and drag racers, with slick rear tires, high handlebars, “banana” seats and “stick” style shifters. Millions were made, but not many survived in really nice, original condition.
The vendors tend to be collectors who also sell and trade. I enjoyed browsing the many tables loaded with parts. Often, the pieces are so obscure that it takes some time to even figure out what they came off of.
Jim sold a dozen bicycles, and a lot of parts. I wound up with two sets of Torrington handlebars, circa 1915; a nice, mellow pair of Carlisle “Indian Head” whitewall tires; six stereotype mats that were used in newspaper advertising for early Sting-Rays (the owner had no idea what they were), and a like-new Wald “Giant Delivery” steel basket, the favorite of newspaper carriers for 50 years. You could haul a 6-year-old kid in it.
Later, when I hauled my booty into the living room, I was as pleased as any hunter toting the head of a 16-point buck. As I talked about each piece, Laurie and the girls tried to act interested, but they couldn’t conceal that bemused, sympathetic expression that I have come to know so well. Without a word, they said, “Oh, that poor, poor thing …”
Oh, well. As hobbies go, old bicycles have a lot going for them. They’re historic, they’re cool to look at, and they provide endless opportunities for me to clean, polish, and repair things. They’re cheaper than cigarettes, alcohol, golf and sailboats.
And riding an old bike is great exercise. Be sure to wave hello next summer if you see me cruising by on my 1963 Schwinn Heavy-Duty Wasp with the “Giant Delivery” basket on the front … just the thing for hauling parts home.
Danville native Kevin Cullen is a former Commercial-News reporter. Reach him at irishhiker@aol.com.
