McLean Abuse

There are some that say that handbuilt bicycles have souls, that they carry part of their creator with them. I don't know about that, but if they do, McLeans, built by the late McLean Fonvielle with simple hand tools, without modern power equipment, would have soul in spades. That's why this one hurts a little to look at.

Bicycles are not like automobiles, Duesenbergs for instance, where the location of every one is know by the aficionados. That said, because there are relatively few McLeans out there, it is rare for one to show up unexpectedly. This one did. This is clipped from an e-mail yesterday from Jack Gabus:

When I first saw a McLean I fell in love because of it simpleness (is that a word). So I started looking for one when Mike Schmidt got a hold of me and said there was one chained to the parking meter in lower Manhattan outside his office (see attached pics). He and I went on for about a month with this when he finally met the owner, some beautiful blond in the advertising Biz. I finally got her e-mail. We went around and around on this. I even offered to buy her a brand new single speed. That is what she had turned it into.

This bike was originally purchased at the Toga Bike Shop in Greensboro, North Carolina, which later became Cycles D'Oro. How did she get from there to the single-speed streets of New York? How does a world class athlete fall so far, to become a grungy, rusted street bum chained to a post? Drugs? Alcohol? We'll probably never know. God bless her and maybe some day Ms. Blond Bombshell will pass her on to a loving home where she can be looked after better in her old age.