My first high end bike
was a 1990
Attitude.
It was, and still is,
the finest bike I have ever ridden. If I was given the choice
of
one bike and one bike only, to ride for the rest of my life, this would
be it. I don't have any pictures of this bike by itself, so
there's just a few racing pictures.
The picture above is from the Neillsville Buzzard Buster race on September 23, 1990. I damaged some parts the day of the race and couldn't ride. A guy saw me sitting around outside of the race and said, "Hey, you're one of the fast guys, why aren't you racing?" I told him my problem and he said, "Take my bike." It was an expensive bike, an American Comp-Lite, and I said, "But you don't know if you'll ever see me again." He said, "Don't you worry about it. Take it and race." Which I did. Bless that man's heart. The bike hadn't been maintained from the previous week's very muddy race and I got a serious case of chain suck. It was bad enough that it knocked me out of contention, I had been in the top 3. It turns out the chain had been damaged and a few minutes later it broke. I had nine miles left and I always finish a race, no matter what. So I pushed. Nine miles I pushed. I finished last. Dead last, but I finished. They held up the awards ceremony for me and cheered me as I crossed the line! This picture is the type of picture a hunter takes after the end of a good day, but I didn't bag a deer, I bagged two very expensive bikes. As I was pushing along, one of the race officials came by with a four-wheeler and offered me a ride back. I thanked him but declined and kept walking. I told them, "It's been a pretty bad day for me, so I'm going to make the best of it and have the dignity to finish on my own." They drove beside me for a while to keep me company and he said, "Hey, you aren't muddy enough!" I looked over yonder and there was a big mud puddle. I did the right thing. It's a good memory.
The thumbnail below on the left was from my very first race, only a few days after getting my bike and was in Quadna, MN. I was quite excited to race and did well enough in sport class that I started racing expert class in my second race. The next thumbnail is from Spirit Mountain near Duluth, MN (that's the St. Louis River, Duluth Harbor, and Lake Superior in the background). Next one is from the Apostle Islands Rock Hop in Wisconsin and the last one is at the Giants Ridge Race, labor day of 1990. This was my best race ever. Everything went right and I rode very, very well that day. I have good memories from racing there. Racing was very different then. At that time, if you had 300 people show up for a race, that was huge. Today, the mens sport class has way more than that alone. These pictures show me and my Klein in happier days. I mention happier days as a few days after theNeillsville race, well look below...
The picture above is from the Neillsville Buzzard Buster race on September 23, 1990. I damaged some parts the day of the race and couldn't ride. A guy saw me sitting around outside of the race and said, "Hey, you're one of the fast guys, why aren't you racing?" I told him my problem and he said, "Take my bike." It was an expensive bike, an American Comp-Lite, and I said, "But you don't know if you'll ever see me again." He said, "Don't you worry about it. Take it and race." Which I did. Bless that man's heart. The bike hadn't been maintained from the previous week's very muddy race and I got a serious case of chain suck. It was bad enough that it knocked me out of contention, I had been in the top 3. It turns out the chain had been damaged and a few minutes later it broke. I had nine miles left and I always finish a race, no matter what. So I pushed. Nine miles I pushed. I finished last. Dead last, but I finished. They held up the awards ceremony for me and cheered me as I crossed the line! This picture is the type of picture a hunter takes after the end of a good day, but I didn't bag a deer, I bagged two very expensive bikes. As I was pushing along, one of the race officials came by with a four-wheeler and offered me a ride back. I thanked him but declined and kept walking. I told them, "It's been a pretty bad day for me, so I'm going to make the best of it and have the dignity to finish on my own." They drove beside me for a while to keep me company and he said, "Hey, you aren't muddy enough!" I looked over yonder and there was a big mud puddle. I did the right thing. It's a good memory.
The thumbnail below on the left was from my very first race, only a few days after getting my bike and was in Quadna, MN. I was quite excited to race and did well enough in sport class that I started racing expert class in my second race. The next thumbnail is from Spirit Mountain near Duluth, MN (that's the St. Louis River, Duluth Harbor, and Lake Superior in the background). Next one is from the Apostle Islands Rock Hop in Wisconsin and the last one is at the Giants Ridge Race, labor day of 1990. This was my best race ever. Everything went right and I rode very, very well that day. I have good memories from racing there. Racing was very different then. At that time, if you had 300 people show up for a race, that was huge. Today, the mens sport class has way more than that alone. These pictures show me and my Klein in happier days. I mention happier days as a few days after theNeillsville race, well look below...
 |
 |
 |
 |
A terrible fate befell my trusty steed. Words cannot describe this feeling..
I still have the broken frame and my 3 year old nephew once asked me, "Do you cry?" I said that I didn't. He asked, "Why not?" "There is nothing in this world crying over" was my response. Yet, when I see the frame I realize that there is one thing to cry about. My current day-to-day bike is a custom painted Klein Attitude , I'm very fond of the bike and the paint is one-of-a-kind. My bike mechanic, Patrick, asked, "What would you do if the Moosepoop frame cracked, jump off a cliff?" Nope, I'd just sit down and cry.
 |
 |
 |
| Home |
Bikes Home | Next Bike |