Anonymous Communist

I just happened to luck into this bike.

Back in 1996, I was on summer vacation after my first junior year of college. My girlfriend (who’s now Mrs. Communist; poor girl) and I were in Topeka, Kan., for her grandfather’s 80th birthday.

When we got into town, we went to her Aunt Jean’s house. As this was the first time I was meeting her extended family, I was her little nervous shadow.

For whatever reason, one that doesn’t come to me, we went outside through the garage, and there they were. Two bikes hanging up just inside the garage door, to the right as you look out. I grabbed the arm of the Significant Other Communist and was like, “Dude, bikes.” Or something like that; she knew what I was talking about. I told her I had to have them. She told me that I’d have to go ask Aunt Jean.

Normally, I’m extremely reserved around people I’ve just met, but I was determined to get these bikes. I inquire to Aunt Jean, and she says the bikes belong to her son, J.W. At this point, I’m beginning to think this all an elaborate ruse for me to meet the family, but I soldier on.

I let J.W. know of my interest in his bikes. He looks at me sideways but eagerly accepts my $50 check for the two bikes. Success!

It was obvious that those bikes had been hanging up in the garage for a while, as evidenced by the picture I took mere minutes after I signed the check.

So it needed some work. When I got back to Carbondale, I got busy cleaning it up but leaving it as original as possible. That summer semester, I was getting my gym requirements out of the way with golf and badminton (Best. Summer. Ever), so I had plenty of time to devote to what was important.

I tried to salvage the remaining tire, but it was too far gone. Six-inch splits in the sidewall are hard to repair, so I went to the bike store to get a cheapie tire to replace the original knobby. For the front, I put on the front wheel-tire combo from my Aztlan Cruiser just so I could get the bike rolling again.

Eventually, I managed to secure a Schwinn front wheel and Schwinn Westwind tire for about $30 from the dearly departed Schwinn Collectornet forum on the Schwinn Web site.

From that point, if I needed to get somewhere (i.e, a party or a bar) and wasn’t in a hurry (i.e., late for class or running various errands on my street-converted mountain bike), I was on the blue Sting-Ray. My dear friend Eric has a purple 1965 Sting-Ray Deluxe, and he and I would go on rides together, in various states of intoxication, all over town, oftentimes joined by our friend Ben, who had a green Sting-Ray. Whether to a party or to a bar, or just to go riding and show off, most anywhere we went we were on our Rays.

While I don’t live nearly as exciting a life now as I did in college, I still enjoy tooling around on the Ray every now and then. If I’m returning a video or grabbing some beer at the Tuck, I’ll use the Ray if it’s nice out.

If you’re out on the west side and you see a devastatingly handsome dude on a bike like this, it’s me. Stop and introduce yourself; I’m generous with the autograph.