The next interesting chapter of the Schwinn story is about how it was bought out of bankruptcy by the same investor group that owned the Scott brand. They moved the headquarters to Boulder, Colorado and became a true quality manufacturer, at the same level as Trek and GT. They built most of their bikes overseas but also launched a US-built line called Schwinn Homegrown that competed well on quality. They also offered more downmarket lines. In the late 90's they were sold to another investor group, one that was more interested in the high-volume, low quality market and had also purchased the Huffy and Mongoose brands. So now all that most people know are the crap Schwinn bikes sold today. But there was a time in the 90's that the Schwinn Homegrown was a great bike to have (I still have mine). The fitness line has gone through some additional gyrations. So much of this is about buying a recognizable brand and squeezing value out without putting anything back into it.
But there was a time in the 90's that the Schwinn Homegrown was a great bike to have (I still have mine).
I appreciate their efforts, but who the hell was going to buy a Schwinn in the 90s? If you asked most people at the time, they probably would have said, "they're still in business?" After you convinced them that Schwinn is, indeed, still in business, you would have had but a tiny chance to convince them that not all of their bikes were crap. Because crap they were the twenty years prior. (Yes, there was the Paramount, which wasn't crap, but it was overpriced.)
I grew up with the Schwinn 10 speed. I didn't own one, but they were built like tanks. I didn't own one because of funds, and honestly--really never liked them, they were just too heavy.
That said, my friends all had Schwinns. I don't remember any of them failing. We would "ghost ride" the bikes--basically just rolling them down hills and watching them crash. We would retrieve the bike, and sometimes adjust the goose neck, and we were off. Those rims were military steel?
When I was around 10 years old, my friend Peter Stewart and I, did a Centurian for a local bike shop. We completed 100 miles. It was kind of a big deal for us back then. My mom's main concern was wearing a helmet. I wore the Bell skateboard helmet for about a mile--then just tied it to the handlebars. My mom would have gone biserk, if I didn't come home with that helmet.
What I think about to this day is Peter Stewart's determination to finish that race. We came in last, but we both finished. It wasen't that much of a feat for myself, as I was one year older than Peter. I was on my father's Raleigh. I didn't know it at the time, but the lighter weight bike really helped me.
Back to the race. About 5 miles into the race on a huge hill Peter just stopped. He got very emotional. I really didn't think we would finish the race. Back then buddies didn't leave the other behind for any reason. He was on a Schwinn with all the trimmings. He had the rack, and other stuff on his Schwinn. Don't remember all the details.
I talked him into getting rid of the rack. We hid it in the bushes. Peter drank out of his official Scout canteen. He was still emotional. Peter was smaller than myself, but he was much brighter. (I look back, and Peter was the only true genius I have known. That's another story, but he was smart.)
When Peter composed himself, we got back to finishing 95 miles.
Peter couldn't have been more than 60 lbs. All I remember is we both couldn't strattle the bikes comfortably. The bikes were too big for our frames. We would seesaw when riding. We ran out of water within a few hrs., and then it was garden hoses. When we told the homeowners our story--they were more than accommodating. One lady even gave us two Cokes. It was still the best Coke I have ever had.
Long story short-- we finished. The Owner of the bike store (who sponcered the race) made sure we crossed the line before he and his buddies went home. We didn't put him out because they had a barbecue ending, and they were just finishing their beers when we crossed the finish line at dusk. They even clapped.
(I lost track of Peter out of middle school. I heard he was living with two women in the Sierras. I knew he would live life to the fullest. Peter if you happen to read this I have an inactive contractors licence in CA. Get in touch with me--if you want? I wouldn't be suprised if you are one of these big wig Silicon Valley types now, and maybe you remember this event?)
