Why I restore old, junk bikes

First of all, it’s none of your business.

But if you have to know, the biggest — most important — reason I restore old, junk bikes is because it’s freakin’ fun. There’s something about unceasing a rusty seat post from an equally oxidized seat tube that is extremely satisfying. 

But then cleaning up those rusty tubes, or replacing them entirely with functional components — knowing that a person will soon be enjoying the straightforward fun that is riding a bike — that, my friends, is pure ecstasy.

Well, maybe not quite ecstasy. But I get ecstatic about it. Yeah. That’s a better description. 

There’s no money to be made with restoring old bikes. You can try to cover your costs and charge for labor if you’re fixing up a bike for a friend. But it doesn’t take long for that person to find out a couple hundred bucks would be better spent on a better bike from the LBS.

So, for me, it’s just pure fun. I get a bike that someone has meant to take to the shop to get fixed and hasn’t. I clean it up, make it rideable. Maybe I’ll throw in some unique parts. Maybe I’ll give it a new paint job. I don’t give a timeline, or an estimated completion date. I just determine to get it done. 

I did this for a friend recently. 

The bike actually used to belong to me. A friend had given it to me and I thought someday I’d flip it to make some money. I never did, so I gave it to him, knowing he needed a ride.

He never fixed it up either. 

So I took it back and determined to make it a proper gift. I don’t know what kind of bike it is, it had been painted before and so all the decals had been covered. But it’s old enough to have friction shifting and levers by the headset. 

I wanted to make it simple and a little more modern, something he could use to commute to work and ride around the neighborhood with his daughters.

What resulted was a 1x drivetrain with Suntour friction shifters the LBS had lying around. I also picked up riser handlebars, a new chain, new brakes, new shifter and brake cables and housing, red paint, and a new Innov8 saddle with matching grips. I was also able to find some 1/2-inch flat pedals.

 

All said, the project ended up costing me around $230, not including time. It’s a lot more than what conventional wisdom would have recommended spending on a no-name bike from the 80s.

Seeing him ride it around the neighborhood with his four-year-old daughter, who is currently learning to ride without training wheels … that’s priceless. 

I know, it’s cliche to say this. But cliches become cliches because they’re true.