Bikes made to outlast their riders.

I like the history of objects, an old writing desk with all the papers in the drawers, science fiction stories, entries for periodicals, the history of a man and his thoughts. An old toolbox with the saws, chisels and planes of a craftsman, all used to create greatness in mahogany. An aged military uniform and medals, all the action it would have seen, all the conflict and emotion. An old guitar, an old pipe, an old gun. Objects we carry with us and hold dear through our lives, they see all that we see. These objects become chipped and scratched and they break. These scars define specific moments and add to the rich lifeline of an object. Objects often change owners many times, if something is built to last, if it was made well it will continue on through its users being reliable, strong and dependable. It's a fascinating tale untold by the mute object. Objects are seldom loved like a bicycle, riders feel a bond to their bikes in a way other objects can only imagine.

Standard Bykes have a history of near indestructible frames and componentry. Rick Moliterno always had the mantra that you should be able to beat the hell out of a bike week after week and have it coming back for more. James Newrick bought his Standard TRLS 250 from Scott a trails rider from the middlesborough area. James recalls meeting Scott in a multi story car park in Newcastle and buying the frame out of the boot of his car after driving a hard bargain. Scott was a smooth trail rider and exclusively rode Standards for years, the frame James bought was in good condition.
I can imagine the excitement of a newish Standard to James, at the time it was the pinnacle of BMX frame technology and Standard had one of the hottest teams around. When I first owned a Standard I was nearly in shock, it was something I had wrote off as far too expensive to ever justify.
James went on to ride this frame for a good number of years. It was the frame he rode when he filmed his NSF3 section so you know he kicked this things ass.
After a while James became sick of the head tube gusset that connects top and down tube of the frame. James could no longer get away with the look and he decided (much to the disapproval of every one in the Buff House at the time) to remove it. He did so using Carmine Fortitis Dremel, Newrick managed to break the Drill bit and Carmine flew off the handle in typical Italian style. "You don't fuck with another man's drill bit."



In the above classic video section the TRLS 250 goes through 4 paint jobs as far as I can tell gloss black, silver, bright red and matt black. Newrick hammered the bike putting untold dents, gouges and stress on the newly gussetless frame. But still in line with Moliterno's wishes it was ready for more.

I think Newrick finally retired this frame when he got on S+M. Leaving this frame to rot in Ninth Ave's shed. It wasn't long before Lewis came along scavenger like and picked up the frame and adorned it with his rag tag charity shop assortment of parts. The bicycle although nothing like it's former glory was still running in it's new unhinged form and served Lewis well. Lewis brought this bike when he and I travelled Europe in 2007 for 10 weeks, this bicycle made it up the French alps, it went to Barcelona and Tarragona in Spain, it rattled over the cobbled streets of Prague, Lyon, The Hague and it bunny hopped curbs in Super cities like Berlin, Rotterdam and Amsterdam.

Lewis owned TRL250 sans pedal, Amsterdam.

Here's an entry from my journal that concerns the above mentioned bicycle piloted by Lewis in Amsterdam from the 2007 trip:

We finally sweated it out all the way to the city then on to the train station to meet Lewis. Lewis was haggard looking, not slept, soaking and possibly stoned. Not too far from how he always looked. He broke a broad smile upon seeing us. Good lad. After following Lewis' example a much needed falafel sandwich paved the way to an expensive and water logged camp site. More rain looked imminent. At a not worth riding suburb located skate park John took it hard to the elbow jumping a 4 foot skatelite spine, a great start to the riding. We rode about in the rain, I winged a lot and didn't see anything noteworthy. I was soaked with a nasty case of shit stripe from my tyres in a city that held little interest for me. I felt for Lewis in the rain. I've once heard his ride described as Homer Simpson's spice rack in bicycle form. This isn't far from the truth it is a rusty and malfunctioning collection of hand-me-down parts clashed together much akin to Frankenstein's monster only without the loving touch of life giving electricity. It is in a word, rubbish. The plane ride from England had not been kind and the turbulence had rattled his pedal loose and lost his locknut forever in the hold. At one busy city intersection Lewis' pedal fell off sending him first into oncoming traffic then back into a grass verge. Then it fell off again and again and then again causing him to almost fall into a canal. Then it fell off again.
Joe was eager to smoke some cheeb. A couple of coffee shops later and the kids were crabbed out, Squidward represent. I stuck to the coffee, the first was black, good and hit home warming the very core of me the second was milky and sickening. I doubt many people order coffees in these places.
The sun was finally out and around 6 we found a skatepark with a big bowl and no locals. No one dared to jump a big hip with 'bad memories' emblazoned on it. Through crab-o-vision the crew managed to carve some decent lines and bust a few fly outs. Lewis' pedal was still a nightmare and after much personal distress I removed the rusty pedal axle from his cranks using a crafty triangulation technique learned from years of working with bikes. Then Lewis covertly stole a plastic pedal off the most sorry looking Amsterdam lady cruiser locked up outside the park. Ninja.


By the end of that trip lewis had covered the bike in hardcore dance stickers, added to it's rusting appearance and generally neglected it. He went on to ride this frame until 2010 when the componentry reached a terminal stage and it became unridable. Around summer time, Lewis' girl friend contacted me with the thoughts of getting him a run around BMX for his birthday, I was up for it, I got him a cheapish Mongoose and asked his girl if she could bring in what was left of his old bike to see if I could salvage the Profile cranks. After far too much work I managed to remove a cross threaded pedal and re-tap the left hand side crank arm, find some axle bolts, accquire some bearings and get the set up installed on his new ride.
This left the TRLS250 frame in my possesion, it hung in the loft with a broken Jim C pedal zipped tied to it until winter at work. Around October I had to take it home because we needed to clear the loft. I tried to give this thing away but no one would have it. I was narked, it was a classic frame with a strong heritage, but all anyone saw was American BB, regular headset, rust, bad stickers and mangled dropouts.
On Feburary 15 of this year I had to move away from Newcastle so I layed the Frame on EL Boosterino and told him to build it up as a project bike and he had quite a bit of enthusiasm for it.

It took him till now to get it built up.

This things looking pretty street.

Front pegs only for the ghetto taxi on Carnsy's old FBM forks.

The perfect bike for leaving outside the shop while diving in for a 20 deck of snout.

The only new components are a pivotal seat and post and a Comet tyre.

 This dropout was hacked off in the Ninth Ave era after it closed up from peg abuse.

Bike maintenance has never been high on the list of priorities for the owners of this TRLS 250 since Scott gave it up.

The perfect beer garden bike, sat at the least perfect beer Garden in the North East(The Chilli where rush hour cars sit in gridlock and spew foul emissions at you and the sun never shines).

How much longer can this frame keep giving joy to its subsequent riders and how many stories has it left to tell?