On the day of the Saint Jean Baptiste anno domini 2008, a bicycle and a half was found in the trash pile in front of Mahatma Ghandi park. The half was nothing special - a cheap mountain bike frame with some rust, with no brakes and one wheel. But the bicycle... the bicycle didn't look like much either - rust, bolts missing on the front axle so the wheel is falling out, useless chain... Looking closer: a mixte frame '70s C.C.M. 5 speed cruiser. Cruiser handlebars. No structural damage to the frame. Appears to have all (or most) original components. Leather spring-loaded seat. Beautiful even in its rustiness.
Bringing it home, I feel like an animal rescuer from a child story. My room already looks like a bike shop - two frames from the ongoing projects, the mountain bike frame I piked up today, and a bike waiting to be tuned up and sold; plus the one I ride on daily bases. This dysfunctional family welcomes the newcomer by falling over and the symphony of clinngggs and bannngs.
Handlebars seem to have taken most of the damage from rust. Even the chain is in better condition (but still unusable). Hopefully they are still salvageable; we'll see what does the steel wool have to say on the subject.
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