Back in August I contacted a seller on Facebook Marketplace about an old bike he had listed. I was after the seat on the bike primarily, and possibly the ape hanger bars that had been added to 'Sting Ray-fy' it in the '60s.
He wanted to sell the whole bike, so I asked if he had any other bikes / related items that I might be interested in. I was seeking a 'bundle' so he wouldn't mind just selling me the seat if I bought some other stuff - ala Frank on "American Pickers".
When I did, he sent me these photos:
It was kind of a rusty and dusty version of 'Where's Waldo', but in the back corner jammed up against the wall, I caught sight of a shift console, folded down ape hangers, double cantilever frame tubes, and a upholstery stripped banana seat and seat rail.
Without tipping my hand, I said I would be interested in swinging out to his farm to take a look at the other bikes and the one he had posted. I'm an old farm boy at heart, so the prospects of me digging around in a dusty machine shed seemed like fun; plus, there was that hint of a muscle bike in the back....
I arrived in the midst of a driving rain storm, in fact, I had been on that hour-long two-lane highway drive in one of the top 5 worse rains I had ever driven in. And the last 3 miles was on our famous Minnesota class 5 gravel soup.
"This better be worth it," I thought to myself.
I sloshed through the rain to his shop, he has a welding design company on his family farm, and the secretary summoned Adam from the shop using the intercom. She got up, and yelled into the back room.
As we stood over the pile in the 3 sided shed, I carefully looked over the bikes by leaning as far over as I could without adding a coat of dust to mix with my soaked shirt and jeans. Finally, after a couple of minutes I said,
"Well, I will definitely take the seat off the bike you had for sale and the handlebars from that bike. And then as far as these go, I'd be interested in that bike with the shifter up against the wall."
He let out a sigh, then abruptly said,
"That one's probably not for sale. It's our family bike, the one all my brothers and sisters and cousins rode around the farm. I'd probably have to keep that one."
"I'll give you $50 for it, and $20 for the saddle and bars off the other bike. $70 total, and I'll dig it out and take the saddle and bars off myself."
I could see his body physically take a quick inhale, and then about five seconds later,
"Okay, I think we can do that."
Before he could reconsider, I handed him the cash, and got to work. In the midst of that ongoing downpour, I stuck the bike and parts in the back of my Dodge Journey, and headed back to the city.
Here's the view I got in my rear view mirror on the way home:
It was looking better already. Safe and dry, and mine.