The story: I fell in love with this lovely red Schwinn bicycle on a road trip many years ago. I was in Seattle for an amazing stop that included Bumbershoot, thrifting and lots of coffee drinking. This red beauty was leaning against a chain-link fence at a Seattle flea market and I knew it had to be mine. I bought a cheap, rickety bicycle rack and hauled the dreamy Schwinn all over the U.S. on the back of my little Saturn — unloading it every time I had to get into the trunk.
This included a flat tire in the swamps of Louisiana that I was sure would end with me inside the belly of a large gator. Thankfully, it did not, though it did deter my plans to visit the Tabasco factory. The photo above is the only one I could find with the car and bike — it's a little hard to make out, but I know it's there. I stopped to take this picture because I couldn't believe it was snowing in Texas—or how desolate and depressed it seemed.
So I happily made it back to New York with the Schwinn. When I brought it in for a tune-up, the local shop was super excited about it and told me that the Magic Hat symbol on it meant it was made pre-1964 (I think that's the year?) because Schwinn stopped using that symbol after that.
I cane very close to selling my sweet bike before moving here to Michigan—a dear friend in New York I knew would truly appreciate it and really wanted it — but at the last minute, I couldn't go through with it. And so the Schwinn is still here with me and long overdue for a drawing dedicated to her.
