NEWS FROM THE FRONTLINE

“I got no thin' to do wit dat. Now get the hell on out o' heua!”
I was merely responding to a craigslist add about a pile of bikes and bike parts up for grabs for five dollars a pop; little did I know that I would find myself in bum-fuck Wisconsin, just outside of Superior, at a shotgun shack getting yelled at by some tattooed, inbred, hillbilly who was missing most of his teeth and must still be under the impression that Walkman cassette players, starter jackets, beating one's wife and gold molars are still the hot thing. But, I can't be fully to blame for this guy's reaction to seeing a stranger in his driveway; I would be pissed too if someone woke me from my meth-bender to ask about some bikes.
I quickly ran past what I thought to be chickens- yes this guy was raising chickens, turkeys or some inbred version of the two in one of the half collapsing sheds or broken down vehicle surrounding his “house”. I got into my car and drove down his driveway just out of the view of the house.
It wasn't quite clear to me yet that I wouldn't be getting a bike from this place, so I parked my car and began looking through some piles of junk heaped on the side of the driveway among about fifteen broken down trucks; I know where I am going the next time I am in the market for a beater truck. I could not find anything worth my time besides an ancient Sears brand bike so I decided to leave; also I was fairly certain that I could hear the theme song for the movie Deliverance being played on a banjo nearby. I sped out of Wisconsin to the safety and comfort of Minnesota.
I was not willing to give up my hunt so I stopped by The Bike Cave on my way home. Within two minutes I was pointed to an old Panasonic bike in decent condition complete with a funny front freewheel shifting system; I barterd for a while with the guy working the cave. The price for the bike- a box of Dilly Bars. So, a short trip to the DQ later I had the beginnings of my fixie.
-Luoma