Please don't hate me.......
Posted: March 27th, 2013, 10:21 pm
So, my wife and I were passing through Durango, spring break of last year (2012).
I heard a legend told of 'THE' Barracuda team trailer parked behind one of the many bike shops in Durango proper….so I mentioned it to my wife as we entered the city limits.
After lunch at an awesome local pizza joint, she and I decided to have a stroll down main street. We saw many different bike shops amongst all the other cool stores we were checking out…….but I never could summon the nerve to go into one of them and ask about the trailer (knowing that people in Durango weren't fans of Barracuda Bicycles in the end). Finally, after not mentioning the trailer since we pulled into town, and walking by one of the last bike shops, my wife very heroically says "do you want me to go in and ask, Chicken?"……to which I reply "sure" (head down, moving some sidewalk debris around with my foot).
She proceeds into the shop, talks to the senior guy in the room, and returns with a wry smile on her face. She says: "I asked about the trailer, and the guy says 'Yeah! It's out back'"
I tried to remain as cool as possible…….setting the world speed walking record back to the truck. We drive down one of the alleys behind the main street shops, when low and behold: There she is. The stuff of legends.
The years have not been kind, as you can see. I tried to get as many quality pictures as possible, and of course…..some Knob parks right in front of it, looking right at me as he parks, my camera clearly in hand.
This is when the story turns from exciting to crazy to surreal: I have a walk around the back of the trailer, when one of the shop mechanics comes out to have a chat, seeing as I was ravaging the poor trailer like Kardashian papparazzi. We chat a bit about Barracudas, and he asks me if I want to have a peek inside. I said "SURE!"
He opens the door, I hop up and start firing off more pictures, when something catches my eye:
Without even hesitating for a second, my earlier shyness strangely gone, i ask 'how much for the banner?' He says 'i don't know, let me go ask'. I threw the question out there thinking for sure I would get a 'it's not for sale' response. I mean, come on, it's been hanging there twenty years with TONS of people seeing it……SURELY the reason it's still hanging in there is because it's not for sale. Right?
All these things are racing through my mind as the few seconds he was gone began to feel like an eternity. He comes back and says: " The owner isn't here today, and it's his. I called him, but he didn't pick up". I very politely said 'thanks anyway', said my goodbyes, and very sadly got back into the truck.
Here's where it gets crazy: We had the windows down, being a nice day and all. I was doing a 97 point turn around because of the aforementioned Douche that parked in front of the trailer, also managed to block us in. Just as we squared up to pull out………..the mechanic comes out from the door and says 'WAIT!". I stop the truck, hop out, and to my AMAZEMENT, he says: " I talked to the owner, and he said: you can have it……….."
Okay, now the surreal part: I can HAVE it!!! My wife had to tell me the rest of the story the next day (I stopped recording time)……..Apparently I offered several thousand times to pay for it, so much so, that the mechanic kept laughing. He went back into the shop, got his trusty phillips, came back and took it off the wall for me.
I very carefully helped him roll it up, raced it over to the truck, put it on the dash, and locked the security system (pyscho….). I motioned my wife inside the store, muttering something about having to buy stuff ('cause they wouldn't let me pay for it), all the while she and the mechanic laughing at me.
I don't even remember what I bought…….I think a spoke wrench, bottles, lube; I don't know, don't care. That's when I get the second shock, and completely lose my mind. I realize where I am: THE MECCA. Every bike that has EVER been important to mountain bike history was hanging on the wall in there. Dumbass me didn't remember the name of the shop, but I knew, again by childhood legend, what this place was. I thought it was a myth. As I stand there drooling over one of the bikes, the same gentlemen that originally helped my wife, came over and asked me if I needed any help. I just silently pointed to Ned Overend's world's winning bike, unable to speak. He laughed and said, "I don't think that one's for sale". Realizing that he thought i was asking to buy it, like a neanderthal ape person, i muttered, 'no, no can't buy something like that'. At which point he joined my wife and the mechanic laughing. Apparently, I was in quite a state.
This is when the story goes above and beyond: As my wife pays for our purchase, the gentleman puts everything into a very nice cloth bag, instead of the usual plastic. It very clearly had a price tag on it. She says something about adding it to the bill, then mentally adds it to the total. When the receipt is printed, she looked it over (as wives do), and noticed the bag wasn't included. She mentions it to the gentleman, who says something along the lines of, "It was my pleasure". My wife says, 'no no, we'll pay for it', to which he insists "free advertising".
I cannot begin to say enough about this shop.
MOUNTAIN BIKE SPECIALISTS, DURANGO COLORADO.
I guess it was pretty obvious that I was a super barracuda fan, and they definitely accommodated and tolerated my 'cuda craziness!
When we finally left, apparently, I made two phone calls: one to my Dad ('Cuda owner), and one to my friend Marie (bike nut). I SCREAMED on the phone to them most of the way from Durango to Alamosa (that night's destination) about what had happened. The banner rode with me in the front seat (psycho) all the way back to Texas, and now resides safely in my house awaiting some sort of acrylic frame.
After coming back to earth, I studied some of the other banners I've seen on this site, and have noted some differences between them and the one from the trailer. The colors are different. The one from the trailer has the team colors, and the commercially available ones are dark greenish. Also, instead of saying 'Durango, Colorado', the trailer banner says: 'Professional Mountain Bike Racing Team". Curious, eh?
I heard a legend told of 'THE' Barracuda team trailer parked behind one of the many bike shops in Durango proper….so I mentioned it to my wife as we entered the city limits.
After lunch at an awesome local pizza joint, she and I decided to have a stroll down main street. We saw many different bike shops amongst all the other cool stores we were checking out…….but I never could summon the nerve to go into one of them and ask about the trailer (knowing that people in Durango weren't fans of Barracuda Bicycles in the end). Finally, after not mentioning the trailer since we pulled into town, and walking by one of the last bike shops, my wife very heroically says "do you want me to go in and ask, Chicken?"……to which I reply "sure" (head down, moving some sidewalk debris around with my foot).
She proceeds into the shop, talks to the senior guy in the room, and returns with a wry smile on her face. She says: "I asked about the trailer, and the guy says 'Yeah! It's out back'"
I tried to remain as cool as possible…….setting the world speed walking record back to the truck. We drive down one of the alleys behind the main street shops, when low and behold: There she is. The stuff of legends.
The years have not been kind, as you can see. I tried to get as many quality pictures as possible, and of course…..some Knob parks right in front of it, looking right at me as he parks, my camera clearly in hand.
This is when the story turns from exciting to crazy to surreal: I have a walk around the back of the trailer, when one of the shop mechanics comes out to have a chat, seeing as I was ravaging the poor trailer like Kardashian papparazzi. We chat a bit about Barracudas, and he asks me if I want to have a peek inside. I said "SURE!"
He opens the door, I hop up and start firing off more pictures, when something catches my eye:
Without even hesitating for a second, my earlier shyness strangely gone, i ask 'how much for the banner?' He says 'i don't know, let me go ask'. I threw the question out there thinking for sure I would get a 'it's not for sale' response. I mean, come on, it's been hanging there twenty years with TONS of people seeing it……SURELY the reason it's still hanging in there is because it's not for sale. Right?
All these things are racing through my mind as the few seconds he was gone began to feel like an eternity. He comes back and says: " The owner isn't here today, and it's his. I called him, but he didn't pick up". I very politely said 'thanks anyway', said my goodbyes, and very sadly got back into the truck.
Here's where it gets crazy: We had the windows down, being a nice day and all. I was doing a 97 point turn around because of the aforementioned Douche that parked in front of the trailer, also managed to block us in. Just as we squared up to pull out………..the mechanic comes out from the door and says 'WAIT!". I stop the truck, hop out, and to my AMAZEMENT, he says: " I talked to the owner, and he said: you can have it……….."
Okay, now the surreal part: I can HAVE it!!! My wife had to tell me the rest of the story the next day (I stopped recording time)……..Apparently I offered several thousand times to pay for it, so much so, that the mechanic kept laughing. He went back into the shop, got his trusty phillips, came back and took it off the wall for me.
I very carefully helped him roll it up, raced it over to the truck, put it on the dash, and locked the security system (pyscho….). I motioned my wife inside the store, muttering something about having to buy stuff ('cause they wouldn't let me pay for it), all the while she and the mechanic laughing at me.
I don't even remember what I bought…….I think a spoke wrench, bottles, lube; I don't know, don't care. That's when I get the second shock, and completely lose my mind. I realize where I am: THE MECCA. Every bike that has EVER been important to mountain bike history was hanging on the wall in there. Dumbass me didn't remember the name of the shop, but I knew, again by childhood legend, what this place was. I thought it was a myth. As I stand there drooling over one of the bikes, the same gentlemen that originally helped my wife, came over and asked me if I needed any help. I just silently pointed to Ned Overend's world's winning bike, unable to speak. He laughed and said, "I don't think that one's for sale". Realizing that he thought i was asking to buy it, like a neanderthal ape person, i muttered, 'no, no can't buy something like that'. At which point he joined my wife and the mechanic laughing. Apparently, I was in quite a state.
This is when the story goes above and beyond: As my wife pays for our purchase, the gentleman puts everything into a very nice cloth bag, instead of the usual plastic. It very clearly had a price tag on it. She says something about adding it to the bill, then mentally adds it to the total. When the receipt is printed, she looked it over (as wives do), and noticed the bag wasn't included. She mentions it to the gentleman, who says something along the lines of, "It was my pleasure". My wife says, 'no no, we'll pay for it', to which he insists "free advertising".
I cannot begin to say enough about this shop.
MOUNTAIN BIKE SPECIALISTS, DURANGO COLORADO.
I guess it was pretty obvious that I was a super barracuda fan, and they definitely accommodated and tolerated my 'cuda craziness!
When we finally left, apparently, I made two phone calls: one to my Dad ('Cuda owner), and one to my friend Marie (bike nut). I SCREAMED on the phone to them most of the way from Durango to Alamosa (that night's destination) about what had happened. The banner rode with me in the front seat (psycho) all the way back to Texas, and now resides safely in my house awaiting some sort of acrylic frame.
After coming back to earth, I studied some of the other banners I've seen on this site, and have noted some differences between them and the one from the trailer. The colors are different. The one from the trailer has the team colors, and the commercially available ones are dark greenish. Also, instead of saying 'Durango, Colorado', the trailer banner says: 'Professional Mountain Bike Racing Team". Curious, eh?