What made you start riding fixed?

Because my bmx was always too heavy & slow, but I liked the fact it was simple. When a friend was selling an old steel road bike I jumped at the chance. I then wanted a simpler setup so I looked into building it some new wheels and taking off all the extraneous crap that hung off it. Thought about SS, but read a little on fixedgeargallery and went straight for converting it to fixed.

That was 2 years ago.

Saw a video of "Radball", and dreamed of the possibility of hoofing various objects with my front wheel (small animals and the like).

Was also given a 1936 raleigh "golden arrow", but didn't think it was wise to try hoofing anything on a 75 year old flip-flop hub. So I'm converting an old touring frame (possibly bit puppy-killer).

Why? Why? That's a question I can't answer. All I can do is tell it straight from the heart.
It was 1969 and I was living with a hippy chick by the name of Chrysanthemum Starlight Wild Horse Groovy-Moon in San Fransisco in Amerika. Me and Chryssy (as our love grew, her name shrank) were holed up in a cold water flat in the Heights. It was the fag end of the sixties, the death throes of peace and love. We still wore flowers in our hair but they were wilting. Keroac had moved in to real estate, Ginsberg talked only of starting up a dry cleaners.
One day we went walking, the peach-blue sky and golden ocean soothed our souls. The moon shone at midday.
Coming back from that walk on the wild side we popped in to Beautiful Pete's for a Ploughman's. The dude was out of cheddar. The omens, the omens.
When we got back to the brownstone Chrissy caught her loonpants on something sharp in the dark hallway. By the light of a joss stick we could see it was some kind of tripped out bike, some Gandalphed velo. What was it? No brake, no gears. No gears? Man that was far out.
We lugged it up the six floors to our pad. Something about that bike had captured our souls. We set it in front of the altar in the bedroom and sat, in a circle, staring silently at this revelation, this velorevalation. Deep down we both new that things would never be the same again and that this lean metal stallion would tear our love apart, break it in a way that could never be fixed...

...but that was long ago.
Last I heard Chrissy was going by the name Chug-It and dancing in bars for small change and cuddles. Time plays a tune which only the deaf can hear.

That's all I can say.
Why? Why? Go ask the moon, go ask the stars, go ask the wind.

We lugged it up the six floors to our pad.

And then took it down Brick Lane the Sunday after and flogged it, you thieving get.

Why? Why? That's a question I can't answer. All I can do is tell it straight from the heart.
It was 1969 and I was living with a hippy chick by the name of Chrysanthemum Starlight Wild Horse Groovy-Moon in San Fransisco in Amerika. Me and Chryssy (as our love grew, her name shrank) were holed up in a cold water flat in the Heights. It was the fag end of the sixties, the death throes of peace and love. We still wore flowers in our hair but they were wilting. Keroac had moved in to real estate, Ginsberg talked only of starting up a dry cleaners.
One day we went walking, the peach-blue sky and golden ocean soothed our souls. The moon shone at midday.
Coming back from that walk on the wild side we popped in to Beautiful Pete's for a Ploughman's. The dude was out of cheddar. The omens, the omens.
When we got back to the brownstone Chrissy caught her loonpants on something sharp in the dark hallway. By the light of a joss stick we could see it was some kind of tripped out bike, some Gandalphed velo. What was it? No brake, no gears. No gears? Man that was far out.
We lugged it up the six floors to our pad. Something about that bike had captured our souls. We set it in front of the altar in the bedroom and sat, in a circle, staring silently at this revelation, this velorevalation. Deep down we both new that things would never be the same again and that this lean metal stallion would tear our love apart, break it in a way that could never be fixed...

...but that was long ago.
Last I heard Chrissy was going by the name Ghug-It and dancing in bars for small change and cuddles. Time plays a tune which only the deaf can hear.

That's all I can say.
Why? Why? Go ask the moon, go ask the stars, go ask the wind.

Daddy?

riding fixed gives me a massive stiffy.

riding fixed gives me a massive stiffy.

riding fixed gives me a stiffy of barely acceptable proportions

riding fixed my stiffy.

riding fixed gives me a stiffy of barely acceptable proportions

Son!

I accidently a whole fixed.

cuz.... jesus stole my hotrod
(now thats a track!)

I think I mentioned that in another thread. :P

Coz this doesn't happen ^^^

Link fail, and I was looking forward to it and everything

Because curryiers are hot.

Do couriers just hang around giving people their phone numbers all day? I've just been given my second courier phone number in a month.

I love you, couriers.

your pace got stolen? you never mentioned it!

did i not??? hmmmmm, i'm sure there is a pic here somewhere

Do couriers just hang around giving people their phone numbers all day? I've just been given my second courier phone number in a month.

I love you, couriers.

Mostly, yeh. Though begging on street corners is increasingly fashionable.
I'll let you in to a little secret; most male couriers live only for the day when they will meet an attractive young woman who has a thing for couriers. If you are that woman then the streets are your oyster.
Another little secret; most male couriers are riddled with syphilis.
Enjoy!

Alan Ginsberg opened a dry cleaners? Early adapter was our Alan, wonder if he ever found his bike?

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix;
Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection
to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night.

Alan Ginsberg opened a dry cleaners? Early adapter was our Alan, wonder if he ever found his bike?

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix;
Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection
to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night.

racist

It looked like fun.

I like fun.

haha how come it took 58 posts for somebody to say because its fun?!?! Whats going on with the first 57 posters?

What was it? No brake, no gears. No gears? Man that was far out.

I'm trippin'. Man I'm trippin'.

a) old road bike broke it's gears and rear wheel
b) thought about buying a new bike to replace
c) in process of b) found single speed/fixed bikes, and thought what the fuck, why?
d) found it was cheaper to buy a new rear wheel for the roadie than a new bike, but the derailleur was knackered so i bought a singlespeed kit for the new shimano freewheel to see what it was like
e) it looked cool, rode sweeter than ever, and legs started to get stronger - i enjoyed it!
f) then the obsession began and 3 months in now i have a bike im happy with and love riding

nice work wiganwill. i larfed.

i'm not really sure why i started. i rode bmxs all though uni till they got nicked and i was bikeless for a bit. then i had a rad old pre-raleigh carlton 10 speed that my grandad had turned into a moustache bar'd 5 speed, chrome guard cruiser. loved that thing madly. when that died of frame fail i had a ridgeback hybrid for a bit. dug that for functionality but didn't need or want all those gears (except one time going up ditchling on the granny ring) and i missed the feel, ride and look of the old road frame.

i've always been drawn to simplicity, minimalism and had a retro-ish aesthetic taste.i was always checking out what other people rode and was dimly aware that a lot of couriers rode fixed and i liked that style.

cornelius blackfoot had just built his titanium bike, i checked that out and had a go. i liked the simplicity, feel and aesthetic of it. i'd tried fixed waaaay back when i was pedicabbing at uni and although that was only a brief daliance i liked what i'd read and heard about riding fixed (increased efficiency, momentum, direct connection and better road feel etc).

so i splurged and bought a genesis flyer based on net bike magazine reviews and advice from lurking here. rode it stock for a bit before turning it into something that was more in line with my retro/minimalist aesthetic tendancies and that's been about that so far. can't see going back to geared anytime soon. not while i'm living in london anyway.

boring but true.

i started riding fixed in anticipation of being asked why I'd done so at an undetermined date in the future... you could almost say that your question has 'retro-enabled' me to ride fixed... a kind of back to the future-style back-dated validation process that scientists probably have yet to understand.

Has anyone else had any retro-enablement experiences they care to share?

Mostly, yeh. Though begging on street corners is increasingly fashionable.
I'll let you in to a little secret; most male couriers live only for the day when they will meet an attractive young woman who has a thing for couriers. If you are that woman then the streets are your oyster.
Another little secret; most male couriers are riddled with syphilis.
Enjoy!

I am actually going out with an ex-courier. He says he's not worried about my penchant for current couriers because they all have syphilis. I thought he was just trying to warn me off them, but it sounds like it must be true :(

Henry VIII started out as a cycle courier, when i found that out, i swore off them. Filthy, impetuous vermin.