Just wrapped up sitting outside drinking a Best Choice pineapple soda & watching the bats right after sundown. I have been feeling inspired lately, to write some great stories of adventure and triumph. The trouble is, I have none to tell. I spent July miserable and unable to sleep, stuck inside because it was so hot. And it was some of the worst sleeplessness I’ve ever felt. I was pulling all-nighters unintentionally. I have nothing adventurous to write about. A shame.
But what put me in this mood in the first place? I had rediscovered the great writing of Jim Carmichael, former editor-in-chief of Outdoor Life magazine. The OL website has archived many of his gripping stories of difficult, hairy-chested hunting adventures. (you should read some sometime) One I really enjoyed was him bowhunting moose in Ontario, and also the one about killing a crocodile in Zimbabwe. I feel a little sad that the era of those, affordable, plentiful, engaging stories that people actually get paid decently to write is long gone. There's a lotta problems with magazines these days as they try to stay relevant. Like how some just employ freelancers now but no one reads anything anymore anyway and blah blah enshittification et cetera. (I’d recommend the Escape Collective piece There’s a Wildfire Outside for anyone who wants to hear a really sad story about a once-great publication, Outside Magazine)
Anyway, later in the day after reading some Jim Carmichael pieces I hopped onto one of my favorite websites, The Radavist, to read about some folks bike touring through the Himalayan Mountains. A thought I’ve had before resurfaced while reading the piece, the abundance of photos is, I think, hurting the writing. The story was well written, but it kept getting interrupted by photos. I was tempted to not even read the piece and just click through the photos, something which I’ll admit to having done while “reading” other reports from The Radavist.
Now, you could say “well Ben, that’s just a you problem, you’re weird” and you could be right. I do think though that there’s something odd about reading a detailed description of something right below a beautiful picture that shows you exactly what is being described. 
Anyway, I’ve got a story to tell about a bicycle. 3 years ago I found a neglected Trek 8500 by the dumpsters while taking out the trash for Wing Stop. I probably blogged about it then, I can’t really remember. I disassembled it, bought a few parts for it but didn’t do much with it, and eventually I bought my white bike, the Handsome Cycles Devil, which ended up taking the space and attention this 8500 could’ve had. It lay more or less forgotten & in a partially disassembled state for quite a while, until recently when I sold a bike and some space opened up. Didn’t take long after to start thinking to myself “I could get a new bike now”, but then I realized, I already had a bike.
In 1988 the Trek 8500 was Trek’s top-of-the-line model, a bonded aluminum frame made int the USA with the highest quality Shimano parts, it was really something special. Mine had been well loved too, with later upgrades of a threadless headset and suspension fork. Back in the day the bike surely would’ve made folks go green with envy as it pulled up to the trailhead. It deserved a second life. My plan was to build it up single speed, as I’d been thinking a single speed mountain bike would be perfect for the trails around Lawrence. I had most of the parts I’d need in my parts bin, but still lacked a headset, inner tubes, & a stem. If I enjoyed the bike I’d also probably get some new wheels & tires, so I got a single speed spacer kit for hyperglide hubs too. I figured even if I didn’t end up getting new wheels for the bike it’d be nice to have the equipment necessary to make my white bike SS if I so chose. I ended up spending about $100, including shipping.
Today those parts arrived, and I was pretty excited to get working on the bike. My first order of business was to get the frame completely disassembled & cleaned. I did this, taking off the font derailleur, the chain, and the rear brake, as well as the old headset cups. With that stuff off the frame I could take a better look at it, and a small worry I’d had about the frame turned into an actual and real problem breathing down my neck. The seat tube was likely bent. I think the only reason I’d brushed aside the earlier warnings was wishful thinking. I really wanted to build the 8500 into a great bike. So I ignored the messed up bottle bolt threads, I told myself it wasn’t a problem if the seatpost that should fit didn’t. (I’d just use a smaller one and shim it a little, no big deal right?) But there I was sweating in the garage, looking at the seat tube of that bare frame and thinking “you know what, maybe it is bent”.
So I’m feeling pretty defeated now I guess. I’ll take it in to Sunflower just for the small chance a professional will say it’s fine and it isn’t bent. I’d have to go to Sunflower anyway to buy a handlebar if I keep going on with the project. I don’t think it’ll be a success though. Maybe I’ll find another way to get a single speed mountain bike. Esker sells one for $2700 . . . :( There are some lessons to be learned though, one is don’t be so quick to buy parts (a lesson maybe I should’ve learned already) and another is that steel bikes are great, which I knew already but it's always good to validate. My two other bikes, the white bike and the Spicer fixed gear are both steel. If the seat tube of one of those bikes bent in the way the 8500’s did I could send it to a frame builder and have it realigned. With the Trek 8500 that’s less likely to work, as aluminum, though strong, is fairly brittle post heat treatment. Getting the seat tube bent back could risk a crack or high stress point, and the bonded rather than welded construction is probably an issue too.
And that might be all to the saga of the dumpster Trek 8500. I will update if the folks at Sunflower say anything encouraging though. I have some photos below from rides I’ve done in the past ~6 weeks. I rode to Vinland yesterday, which was nice.
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| Vinland Grange Hall, built 1884 |
