The Roadmaster Bikes brand name has been around since 1936 through various ownership and iterations. But for the past 20 years or so they’ve been a piece-of-shit Walmart bike brand. As those in-the-know know a roadmaster is also a cute name for a 24oz can of beer and when I was your age you could pick one up anywhere for a buck & change. When one wasn’t enough but six was too many a roadmaster did the trick. This nostalgia is the only reason I’ve given Roadmaster bikes a second look. I mean a look longer than two seconds. I mean a look longer than a Motiv or Pacific before tossing them into the dumpster literally at Bike Works and figuratively in my bike brain. I did snag this bottle cage back in the day and with a slight hacksaw modification it now does the trick smoothing transitions along the coffee-beer continuum. Not nearly as well as my beloved Profile Design but the roadmaster nostalgia makes me smile.
Climate Pledge my ass. Keeping that frown upside down makes me smile.
Yesterday morning I watched a woman remove her helmet while riding and run her fingers through her hair to ride sans-helmet for the final few blocks into her place of work. This reminded me of Tour stages when the UCI allowed racers to chuck their helmets for the final 5 or 10k on mountain top finishes. Not that that has much to do with repairing cracked 7005 frames. But it made me smile.
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