I’m up to 16 if you count my 1968 Schwinn Exerciser, which I “ride” during the boring winter months of no bike rides. My collection is up to 15 bikes, several of which I bought on a whim in Ann Arbor. I have to admit, it’s a fun time if you like bikes.Īs evidenced by the picture above, I did come home with something new, which I parked in front of the rest of my bicycle herd to accentuate my lunacy. People who know more minutiae about a classic Schwinn than I know about anything. People who will trailer dozens of bicycles hundreds of miles to make a few bucks and have a good time. It’s also a refreshing couple of hours wandering around with other people who are unashamed to ride kids bikes or mini bikes around the grounds. April 24th was the annual Ann Arbor bicycle show and swap meet, and seldom is the year that I don’t come home with something I don’t need. On one annual Sunday in April, however, I’ll consort with a troupe of characters who put all of my daily interactions to shame: bicycle collectors. Sometimes, I’ll haunt the doors of local machine shops and body shops and talk cars with guys who have been in the business for years. By day, I can talk pedagogy with my well-versed coworkers, and by night I live in a typical declining midwestern middle-class town near some very friendly retirees. I’ve been lucky enough in my life to float in, out, and around many dissonant places and groups of people. (first posted ) There are many backdrops for humanity.
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