The heart of the bicycle is the frame. Most people assume that bicycle frames are made in factories on an assembly line- this is true of most bicycles on the planet but there are some that are made by individual artisans one at a time. Team Cycles Heroic exclusively rides these rare artisan produced singular examples of distinct craftsmanship. The attention to detail and notable absence of chrome attracts the trained eye of the vintage cycle enthusiast and/or collector. These are the highly sought after distinctive works of solitary masters, most of whom shunned attention and lived monastic lives, dutifully producing few if any of these rare machines. The bulk of these frames were made in small , dank and poorly lit workshops in small towns of little no distinction.The history of the origins of these priceless frames is rather vague as the master craftsmen that created these masterpieces were never seeking the limelight-their only wish was to complete the task at hand and do it at the highest level .These are the frames that are the center of the bicycles that will be ridden at the Eroica- cycles for a very hard day in the saddle indeed. The agony of pedaling up a picturesque hillside while ingesting perhaps an unwisely large quantity of chardonnay conjures up the image of truly heroic vintage coastal casual cycling at its most savage state. That we as a team-forlorn standard-bearers of period-correctness can be so fortunate as to be riding frames with the names Cycrus Mego, Stoolsworth, Crappi, Seymour Butts, Bjorgorg and others is truly remarkable ........epic ! It is our duty to find the will to conquer the dusty hills of Central California on these venerable steel examples of old world craftsmanship-all the time remaining true to our dedication to upholding the honor of those who came before us and suffered on the white gravel roads .
Ah, the virtually unknown and tragically obscure Bjorgorg. You are a true scholar to extoll the virtues of this finely crafted frame. As legend has it, an amateur tennis player whose true name is lost to the ages but whose nom de cyclist was Mr. Magoo, commissioned bicycle builder Jimm Bjorgorg (of Danish extraction) to build a custom frame, not realizing that he would only be receiving the frame. Magoo became so enraged that he threw the frame into a canyon below his home adjacent the Santa Monica Mountains, where it lay in obscurity for at least a decade. An intrepid hiker discovered the frame, rusty but still in tact, which he then sold at a garage sale for $5.00. I understand that the hiker felt he got a real deal. The Bjorgorg changed hands many times, finally disappearing once again, lost to the ages. Mr. Magoo in his later life realized his mistake and offered his mother's famous eggplant pate as a reward for its recovery (the pate's uniqueness was due to its uncanny chicken liver taste), but to this day, no one has been able to claim the reward. Hopefully this article rekindles interest in the builder and his superbly crafted frame. I am not sure that the pate is still available, however.
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