A 1968 Sears Austria

Today has been a roller coaster ride of biking emotions. I was hoping to get the Sears bike fixed up enough to let me go out on it this weekend. I was supposed to take it to the shop last night but life got in the way. So today I fretted about whether it would still be a possibility to ride it tomorrow. I had spoken with someone last week at the bike shop and he told me to bring the bike in when James was working and he would fix things and assess damages so to speak. As of this afternoon though, I had no idea how long those damages would take to correct. I called the shop after lunch today and asked if James was working tonight. After speaking briefly with James I was told to walk the bike in after work and he'd look it over. So I was elated that maybe tonight I could get it fixed. And then I was worried about what might be wrong with it. And then I was daydreaming about riding it tomorrow. And then I was anxious about how much it was going to cost. And so on and so forth, etc, etc. Anyway, as soon as my cohabitant got home from work I loaded the bike up in the back of her truck and off we went.

James is my new hero. It took him about 35 seconds to pop the bike into the workstand, run a finger over a few parts and come back over to deliver the news. My bike is a 1968 Sears Austria that is in excellent condition and has probably been ridden less than 100 miles in it's lifetime. James gave me 2 options: do some basic repairs and I can ride it tomorrow, or give him a fews days and it will be as good as new. I pondered only a moment, knowing tomorrow the weather is to be gloriously warm. James set about the basic repairs: new tube in the rear wheel, correcting the pedals which were on backwards, something about the crank (it was a little hard to get specifics from James--like pulling teeth), removing 2 broken spokes and putting on a new rear brake cable.

Meanwhile James is telling me a bit about my bike--Sears got the parts from Nottingham and specified a wide crown, which makes the bike super stable and strong. He remarked several times on the quality and excellent condition the bike is in. He stated he would like to replace the brakes with Shimano cables, which I've read a lot about but don't know much about. He also thinks the rear wheel needs respoked, and one pedal is slightly bent. Everything else seems to be in fine working condition. He oils various parts while he's talking and I ask him about cleaning the rusty front spokes. He immediately sorta snaps "Don't! Do not remove the rust." Further explanation reveals that, in James' opinion, the removal of rust will only allow future rust to get deeper into the metal causing more damage. He states that in Europe no one would give a second thought about cleaning up the bike and we Americans only care because of the aesthetics. At this point I feel thoroughly stupid about my time spent painstakingly removing rust from the handlebars and assessing how to get at the hard to reach places. I ask "Doesn't the rust make the spokes weaker?" Apparently no. At least not in James' eyes. Upon further consideration I've decided three things: I will not remove the rust from the spokes, because it doesn't seem to do them any harm. Also, it was really irritating and frustrating when I tried. Secondly I'm damn glad I clean up the handlebars because it makes me happy and feel good to look down at those shiny little curves of metal. Lastly, I will probably also still remove what rust I can from the remaining 3 fender stays because it makes me feel good to be working on the bike and I like the clean look of it. Front spokes be damned.

All of this makes me very excited about my Sears bike. Apparently I got a steal. James told me when he worked in NYC this bike easily would have sold for $500. For a 40 year old bike. Also he keeps making small remarks about what a nice little bike this is, how it's just the right size for me, that it would be great for commuting, that it's all the bike I could need for getting around. Now all this isn't worth a fig, but it makes me feel really great about my bike. I don't know James from Adam, but I do know he spends a lot of time at a local bike recycling shop, that he showed me the old Hercules bike he is refurbishing, that he seems like a damn good bike mechanic, knowledgeable enough to assess and recognize a 40 year old bike in 35 seconds. Oh, and that he didn't say one damn thing about how great his bike was to the guy with the super sleek and expensive looking tricked out racing bike he finished right before mine. Also I was reassured that he offered the quick, cheap fix up so I could ride it within an hour of taking it in as well as the more extensive (in terms of money, time and labor) fix up for either tonight or some time down the road. He recommended I ride it a while and figure out if I wanted to invest any more money in it. Basically the no-pressure approach. That gets me every time.

So tonight was basically a glowing, positive experience for me. I feel like I learned a bit from James. I also got my bike fixed relatively cheaply and very quickly. I feel proud of my bike. It's old, in great shape, easily fixed and a damn workhorse. My inexperience didn't keep me from stumbling on a great bike that I got for a pittance. Actually I'll attribute it to that inner "geek" my sister always references. If the damn thing didn't look like an old bike I wouldn't have given it a second look. I also felt my curiosity and passion rising a bit about this wonderful new little subculture I've stumbled upon. I want to learn how to fix bikes. I want to have bike projects. I want someday to be able to assess a bike in 35 seconds.

But most of all I want to throw a leg over and ride...