I scanned this from a copy given to me by a member of the Chicago Wheelmen, from some early Chicago bicycle literature. At one point in the late 1800s one third of the nation’s 300 bicycle shops were located on Lake street alone.
Its that time of the year with St. Ratrick’s approaching the desire to have a new or first freak bike out weighs the desire to stay inside. So you wait till its a warm day, something in the double digits and head to the unheated uninsulated garage.
Reg Meg imported her frames from the tundra of Jeeferson. With the garage door frozen shut she headed to the outdoor pile and with the help of Max she got to the bottom of the pile of to discover that the chain ring of her desired bike had sunk into the once soft ground and now required a battle to pull out. After a lot of back and forth the bike was released from the ground and brought back to Chicago where she could work in slightly above zero temperatures and wire feed welder.
After 4 visits to the Barberchop and a lot of frozen fingers her bike was completed, well sort of. Although a smalltall this bike is much too tall for her and the pedals cannot be reached (can you spot the other fundamental problem with this bike?) So its back to Wisconsin to finish it up at the Real Fun Home so it can compete at Love is Dead.